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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599065">Connection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdQueen13/pseuds/NerdQueen13'>NerdQueen13</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>America's Sweethearts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bridezilla seething beneath the surface, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Humor, I promise there is a plot, Steve can finally stop feeling lonely, The world is a mess, Women Being Awesome, dirty jokes but nothing more (read: Tony Stark), like half of part 2 is just wedding hehe, scratch that--everything is a mess, still a happy ending I swear, very cute and romantic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:36:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>39,625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdQueen13/pseuds/NerdQueen13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Meg and Steve have been together for 3 years, and it's finally time for the big wedding day. But there's a chance Bridezilla might come out, since things don't all go according to plan....</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>America's Sweethearts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Today is Important, So I Can't Pay Attention</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I gaze into the mirror as the others flutter around me, brushing my hair, moving things, busily checking lists and schedules, unzipping bags, fiddling with the speaker playing music in the background. “Single Ladies” blares at me across the room, accompanied by giggling and taunting.<br/>
<br/>
“Shut that off!” I laugh loudly to a snickering Charlie. She rolls her eyes but reluctantly obliges, and I compose myself once more. I can’t concentrate on that right now. I’m a tiny bit nervous about what lies ahead, so I give in to the memories swimming in my mind for relief.<br/>
<br/>
It starts with a few fragmented images. Late-night motorcycle rides. Early morning runs, usually ending with me getting so fed up with Steve’s superhuman speed and endurance that I jump onto his back and he carries me a mile or two before we quit and stop at Starbucks. That one mission where we had to pose as husband and wife. Rejoining SHIELD and meeting some of the agents: Daisy, Jemma, Leo, Melinda, and Grant (not a fan of him). Ice skating and falling over too many times to count. Laughing together at weird pet names and stupid jokes, often so hard we start to cry. Crying and cuddling during sad movies. All the little things that added up until I finally realized that maybe they weren’t so little. Then the more significant memories set in.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi everybody! Welcome to Part 2 of this series! I will go ahead and apologize; this one isn't completely finished, so updates won't be as fast. However, I think this one will end up being longer than Part 1 (even though some chapters are reeeeeally short). Please feel free to leave comments down below, and enjoy! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I'm Not Drowning in This Sea of Memories Because They're All Good Ones</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This entire chapter is in flashback because it is made up of memories of previous events. However, it doesn't automatically transfer my italics, hence why I felt the need to clarify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The only thing I notice is the proximity between the two of us, and how he’s getting closer every second. “If I started kissing you, I don’t know if I could stop,” he mutters under his breath. “Can I…”<br/>
<br/>
I nod fervently, and suddenly Steve’s lips are against mine. The feeling is indescribable. My heart stops for a second and then hammers into overdrive, mirroring the pattern of my thoughts. I’m so overwhelmed, I can’t remember my own name. Whoever defined bliss as ignorance was clearly inexperienced.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
I’m babysitting for my parents’ neighbors, whose ten-year-old daughter is always super fun to hang out with. I knew I wouldn’t be busy today (a rare statement), so I was eager to take on the job of watching Elaina.<br/>
<br/>
After we go to the park and get ice cream, and she’s asked about a hundred questions about my job and being a superhero, Elaina finally asks if we can visit the tower. I agree, knowing how my teammates love kids, and we take a taxi across the city to meet them.<br/>
<br/>
As soon as we come in the door, Elaina starts freaking out. “This is so cool!” she screams, jumping in circles and grinning from ear to ear.<br/>
<br/>
“You haven’t even met my team yet,” I tease, walking further into the room. “This way, silly goose.”<br/>
<br/>
We make our way deeper into the tower, finally arriving in the crowded living room. “Hey guys,” I say. “This is Elaina. We’re hanging out today.”<br/>
<br/>
The team waves to her and smiles, calling out various greetings, and Elaina goes wild. “You’re Black Widow! You’re so cool! And Iron Man! And War Machine! Whoa! And Scarlet Witch! And Falcon! Ohhh my gosh! You guys are all so awesome!” She runs around the room, hugging all her heroes and chatting eagerly to them.<br/>
<br/>
“Cute kid,” Tony says, smirking at me.<br/>
<br/>
Elaina stands in front of Steve now. “And you’re Captain America! Meg really loves you. She wants to have your babies.”<br/>
<br/>
“What?” I blurt, spitting out my drink as my face turns scarlet. Steve looks at me, and I avert my eyes uncomfortably as the rest of the team leans closer in intrigue.<br/>
<br/>
“I heard my mom say that the last time you came over. You were talking about him before you left, and then she and Dad were still in the kitchen talking about you when she said that.”<br/>
<br/>
The memory of the preceding scene dawns on me. “Elaina, that’s because I had just told your parents that Steve and I are dating. Your mom jumped to conclusions after I left.” The blush doesn’t fully recede from my cheeks as Steve continues to look at me.<br/>
<br/>
“Meg,” he says hoarsely, “you don’t need to be embarrassed.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s a little late for that,” I snarl.<br/>
<br/>
“But I’ve thought about it too. You know I want to start a family someday, and I’m in love with you. Just...consider it a possibility.” He smiles charmingly, sending the butterflies in my stomach aflutter and returning more of the blush to my cheeks.<br/>
<br/>
“Stop talking! This is gross!” Elaina shrieks. “Let’s go do superhero stuff instead!”<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
Pepper walks down the aisle escorted by Happy, the train of her white dress trailing far behind her. Tony stares in amazement as she approaches him, and the look does not leave his face the entire time they’re at the altar. The two say their vows and their ‘I do’s, and the crowd explodes into cheers as they kiss. A feeling of happiness overwhelms me, cementing the joy in my memory and preventing anything else from getting in to tarnish it.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
“Come on, Steve. I know it’s a long time, but it’ll fly by,” I say, shouldering my purse and walking out the door in a businesslike fashion. Steve trails close behind me, looking like a lost puppy.<br/>
<br/>
“Four months. That’s a long mission,” he insists. “And all the way in England?”<br/>
<br/>
“I know, but the bad guys don’t always follow a schedule,” I answer. I freeze in the middle of the hallway and turn around to face him. He stops just short of bumping into me. “Are you gonna be okay without me for that long?” I make a playful sad face at him.<br/>
<br/>
“I’ll have Bucky and Sam and Tony to pester me the entire time,” he replies in a monotone voice.<br/>
<br/>
“Is that a yes or a no?”<br/>
<br/>
“I’ll be fine. Just promise me you won’t go flirt with any British guys if it’s not for your mission,” he teases with a pout.<br/>
<br/>
I roll my eyes. “Please.” I stretch onto my toes and kiss him, messing up his hair as I do so. “I’m not stupid. I’ve got you, Steve.” I take his face in my hands and pull him close for another kiss.<br/>
<br/>
He takes his lips half an inch off mine a moment later to smile mischievously. “Natasha’s probably waiting for you.”<br/>
<br/>
I jump back, and his hands drop from my hair to his sides. “Right!” I shout, probably sounding more agitated than I mean to.<br/>
<br/>
“But before you go, can I give you something?”<br/>
<br/>
My head snaps up to look curiously into his eyes. “What?”<br/>
<br/>
“I noticed that you haven’t worn your old locket for a while,” Steve says.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, yeah. It got… It got broken in the battle with the Rogues.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m sorry. I know how much it meant to you.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, but I actually have Charlie back now, so I’m not so concerned about it.”<br/>
<br/>
“In that case, can I give you a replacement?” He reaches into his jacket pocket and extracts a delicate silver chain with a tiny locket charm on the end. He places it in my upturned palm, and I open the locket, revealing a tiny portrait of Steve tucked into one side and the words “Je t’aimerai toujours [I will always love you]” engraved on the other.<br/>
<br/>
“I know how to say it in Spanish, German, Italian, and Russian, too,” he teases. “In case you ever forget.”<br/>
<br/>
“You can speak six languages. Wow. I’m not even shocked.” I smile as I close my fist around the necklace and throw my arms around Steve’s neck in a tight hug. “It’s perfect. I love it,” I say. “Thank you.”<br/>
<br/>
“You’re welcome.” He gives me a wide smile as I step away and clasp the locket around my neck. “We should probably be going now.”<br/>
<br/>
We make our way to the doors, where everyone else is waiting. Natasha and I exchange hugs (some of the bro variety) with our teammates, and then we step out the doors toward our taxi, our plane, and our mission.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
“It’s kinda lonely here without you,” Steve says. I smile sadly at my phone screen and grip the locket chain hanging around my neck. “I mean, there are still a ton of people around, but it just doesn’t feel the same.”<br/>
<br/>
“I know,” I reply sympathetically. “It’s really quiet here. There are times when Nat just doesn’t talk much, so it’s really weird. She’s calculating, I guess. But at the compound, there’s always somebody to talk to. Natasha only talks when she wants to. Which is often, but not as often as I sometimes need.” I blow out a puff of air in exasperation. “I miss you,” I add softly.<br/>
<br/>
“I miss you too,” he whispers, blowing a kiss into the camera. I teasingly grab at the air to catch it, exchanging it for my own kiss. “Today I went for a run and then stopped at a gym just to get a few punches in, like I normally do at the tower, right? And some guy just came over and started talking to me, and he asked if I’d had a rough night or something because of how aggressive I was being. At first, I didn’t know how to respond, but then I realized why I was frustrated, so I just told him the truth.”<br/>
<br/>
“Which was…?”<br/>
<br/>
“That my girlfriend was on a business trip, and that I was missing her right now.” He frowns and stares at me through the camera. “It hadn’t hit me quite as hard until that moment.”<br/>
<br/>
I laugh and pucker my lips at him again. “You know how much I miss you. I am so ready to get back. I need a massive bear hug.”<br/>
<br/>
He laughs and opens his arms. “Ready to supply.” He studies my face, looking puzzled. “Wait, this isn’t just about missing me, is it? You had some other reason to call. What happened?”<br/>
<br/>
“I had a weird dream the other night. We were in a battle, and I got hurt. As you carried me away from the action, you told me I needed something to look forward to, something to keep fighting for. You said, ‘If I survive, will you marry me?’, and I told you I would. You left me in a safe place, but then you never came back.” I shut my eyes tightly to block the tears from falling.<br/>
<br/>
Steve is quiet on the other end. “And you’re still shaken.” I nod, averting my eyes from the camera. “I’m so sorry, Meg. Nothing’s happened to me, I’m totally fine. I don’t really know what else I can say, and I can’t exactly do anything either….” His brow furrows as he thinks.<br/>
<br/>
“Please, don’t get frustrated about this. That’s why I didn’t really want to mention it yet. I’ll…. I’ll write down everything that I can remember about it so we can talk about it when I come home.”<br/>
<br/>
“Okay. Are you sure?” His concern makes me ache.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I sigh. “I should probably go before Natasha starts making fun of me for taking advantage of the untraceable phone to talk to you. Good night, Steve. I’ll keep you in mon coeur [my heart] until I can hold you in my arms again.”<br/>
<br/>
“I love you, Meg,” he says with a smile, trying to fight back a sudden wave of tears.<br/>
<br/>
“I love you, too.” I blow him one more kiss before ending the call.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
“We’re home!” I cry.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s two weeks early,” Bucky says grouchily as he slouches across the kitchen to plate his scrambled eggs.<br/>
<br/>
“Real warm welcome,” Natasha snarks.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re back!” Tony crows as he walks in, arms wide--always the showman. Steve follows behind him. He strolls silently and purposefully into the room, not stopping until he’s right in front of me, enveloping me in his arms.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey, soldier,” I tease.<br/>
<br/>
“If it isn’t my favorite spy.” I can tell he’s smirking. “I’m so glad you’re back,” he murmurs. “You’re early.”<br/>
<br/>
“Bad guys don’t follow a schedule,” I remind him. He releases me from his hug, but keeps hold of both my hands. “We figured everything out, so they were relatively easy to track. Then it was just a time-consuming chase. You didn’t miss anything interesting.” I stop talking, and my eyes subconsciously drift to his lips.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, well, nothing more interesting happened here,” Steve comments. “It’s been too quiet, though. I missed you. A lot. And I was worried about you.”<br/>
<br/>
“We heard the two of you FaceTiming every other night!” Bucky calls across the room, his back to us. “You should’ve heard the insufferable punk whining when he couldn’t see you!”<br/>
<br/>
I ignore him. “I missed you too,” I breathe, hugging Steve again, tighter this time. “And not to be rude, but it’s been three and a half months. Right now you need to shut up and kiss me.”<br/>
<br/>
He snickers. “I can do that.” And he does, and it’s glorious.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
Steve and I are in the middle of making dinner, teaching Vision and Peter about food, since neither really knows how to cook when they need to (Peter for himself, Vision for his girlfriend and his human facade). We’re chopping vegetables and boiling water when Tony walks in. At the exact moment he does, my boyfriend and I interrupt our work on the food for a kiss. It doesn’t end up being as quick as we meant it to, though, because Steve wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close, and cups one side of my face with his palm. I slide my arms over his shoulders and link them around his neck. He begins to whisper in my ear in Italian, sending shivers up my spine as he says heaven knows what. I close my eyes to enjoy the moment. This, apparently, presents the perfect opportunity for Tony to say something.<br/>
<br/>
“Steve, did you really just say that?” Tony asks incredulously.<br/>
<br/>
“Say what?” I ask, breaking our embrace to look at him.<br/>
<br/>
“Congrats, guys! Can’t wait for the wedding,” he says sarcastically, taking a seat at the table. “Steve just proposed, I guess.”<br/>
<br/>
“What?” I demand to Steve. I whirl toward Tony at lightning speed. “We’re not-- He didn’t--”<br/>
<br/>
“I forgot you speak Italian,” Steve mutters under his breath. “Stupid of me. Tony, you know that’s not--”<br/>
<br/>
“My mistake,” he amends quickly, standing up and hurrying out of the room. I turn back to my task, rolling my eyes and thinking. Is Tony pranking me, or did Steve really say that? And was he serious about wanting to marry me? That’s…the most incredible thought I could possibly imagine. But is it true?<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
It’s been a few weeks since that awkward, confusing incident, and I have a date. Steve and I are going to a park for a picnic for his birthday. We’ve already done most of the regular birthday rituals that morning, and he requested a private date with me. It’s adorable, in my opinion, and super gooey and romantic. I dress as such and meet Steve at the doors to head to Central Park.<br/>
<br/>
We talk and laugh as we climb into a horse-drawn carriage, walk through beautiful tunnels beneath the trees, and eat our lunch. When we’re finished, Steve scrambles off the ground, grins at me, and starts climbing a gigantic tree nearby with ease. I raise my eyebrows at him and get up, giving myself a running start to jump and swinging my body gracefully onto the lowest branch (suddenly grateful I didn’t wear a dress for this). I then follow him up the tree’s trunk until we’re half-hidden by the canopy of leaves. I take a seat on the limb and slide to my right so Steve can sit down next to me. He puts his arm around me and draws me closer, and the two of us watch the scenes of the park below us in peaceful quiet. Steve softly places his other hand on my chin and turns my face toward his, and he delicately places his lips against mine.<br/>
<br/>
A little boy walks beneath the tree, catches sight of us high in the boughs, and starts singing the “K-I-S-S-I-N-G” song very loudly. We stop kissing and look down at him, laughing. I almost fall out of the tree at that point. Steve smirks and takes his arm from around my waist (bad move, just sayin’, considering that I almost tumbled to my death just ten seconds ago) and puts it on the other side of my face. He kisses me again, this time so very different from the last. It’s not soft and gentle; it’s impassioned, emotional, and unbreakable, and I find myself without any other choice than to reciprocate the strength of the kiss. Not that I wouldn’t want to…<br/>
<br/>
The kid stares at us as we find our breath again. “I’ve already got the kiss down, son. The rest…we’ll have to wait and see until we’re not in a tree. I sure hope you’re right, though.” Steve winks, and the boy runs off.<br/>
<br/>
My cheeks are blushing profusely, and I try to subtly extricate myself from Steve’s hands. I wriggle away from him and jump down to the next branch (probably a little stupid, but it’s definitely not the worst choice an Avenger’s ever made. Sad that that’s my system of determining whether or not I should do something). When I glance back up, he’s readying himself to jump after me. I hurriedly scamper the rest of the way down the tree, landing my jump squarely on the picnic blanket and turning to watch Steve come back down.<br/>
<br/>
He lands in the grass and casually strolls over to me. The two of us start picking up our things, but Steve assures me that we aren’t finished yet. We take a walk around the park, passing the carousel and other attractions on our way around. We finally stop on a long, quiet bridge untouched by the mob of tourists below.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s so beautiful here,” I whisper. The bridge feels like a magical place out of a fairy tale.<br/>
<br/>
“I told you there were good things in store,” Steve laughs beside me.<br/>
<br/>
“Happy birthday,” I tell him, giving him a hug.<br/>
<br/>
As Steve and I set our things down again to take in the view, he picks up a bottle of wine from the picnic basket, pausing to drop something small and indistinct into one of the glasses before pouring any of the drink into either. He passes me my drink with a smile, and I accept it, worried though I am about what’s in it. “Let’s play a game.”<br/>
<br/>
“Okay…” I reply, looking at him quizzically.<br/>
<br/>
“What’s my favorite color?” he asks. Oh. 20 Questions...sort of.<br/>
<br/>
“Easy. Blue. What’s my favorite book?”<br/>
<br/>
He laughs. “Any book by John Green. You can’t choose a favorite. Come on, Meg.”<br/>
<br/>
We exchange increasingly ridiculous questions, going back and forth and laughing as we sip our wine. When I finish it, I stare analytically at the glass and stick two fingers into it to fish out a plastic ring. I look curiously at Steve once I figure this out.<br/>
<br/>
With a contented sigh, he sets down his glass and motions for me to do the same. “Megan Delaney Levesque,” Steve starts, quiet but confident. “My sunflower. Today’s a big day. It’s my birthday, it’s Independence Day, it’s kind of a big deal. But I wanted to take a moment to remind you how you’ve changed my life, because this relationship has been the greatest gift you could ever give me. As soon as I met you, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. You’re smart, funny, compassionate, honest, and beautiful, you’re not afraid to be yourself, and you’ve seen me for who I really am. I don’t think either of us is the same as we were when we started dating two years ago, but I think I’ve always known that we were meant to be, so today takes on a third special significance for me.” He gets down on one knee and takes a tiny velvety jewelry box out of his back pocket, opening it for me. “Meg, I love you with all my heart, so I have one last question to ask you. Will you please make me the happiest man alive and…marry me?”<br/>
<br/>
My hands fly to my mouth in shock. This is really happening, I think to myself. Tears start to flood my eyes as I nod fervently, unable to speak. Steve stands back up, slides the real ring onto my finger, and wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me into the air and kissing me lovingly, his tears mixing with mine. We stay this way, happy as can be, long enough for people on the ground below to start staring.<br/>
<br/>
Steve sets my feet back on the ground and takes my hands gently in his. “I love you,” he whispers.<br/>
<br/>
“I love you, too,” I return, laying my head against his shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
After he steps back, I take my first real look at the ring. The band is a silvery twist, very lightweight, and the stone is a brilliant multi-faceted diamond that throws rainbows as the sun hits it.<br/>
<br/>
“Whoa,” I breathe, unable to stop myself.<br/>
<br/>
Steve grins and puts one arm around my waist, still holding my hand bearing the ring. “The diamond was from my mother’s engagement ring,” he explains without prompting. “It was very difficult to get my hands on it, but I knew tracking it down would be worth it when I gave it to you. And the band is vibranium. Tony helped me make it. I thought it was fitting, the world’s strongest metal symbolizing our eternal commitment to our undying love. Do you like it?”<br/>
<br/>
“Like it?” I blink rapidly to organize my thoughts. “Steve, it’s perfect. Thank you.”<br/>
<br/>
He hugs me closer to him. “Thank you. This is officially the best date ever. And best birthday ever.”<br/>
<br/>
“True,” I laugh, leaning into him. We start packing up our picnic, still smiling and giggling like idiots the whole time. “It’s your birthday, and you’re still giving me presents.”<br/>
<br/>
“Hey, the ring isn’t the present; your promise to marry me is,” he retorts, planting a kiss on my cheek. He pauses and analyzes my face for a moment. “I hope you’re not upset about the whole thing with Tony. The ring wasn’t ready yet, and I didn’t realize-- I forgot that he would be able to understand what I said. Sometimes it’s just easier to get something emotional off your chest when people can’t understand it, you know?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah,” I answer with a shy grin. “And I get that that’s not the sort of thing you can practice saying.” I put my head against his shoulder and close my eyes.<br/>
<br/>
“But I can practice calling you Meg Rogers. It sounds good.” We both crack a smile at the thought. “I mean, assuming you want to change your name.”<br/>
<br/>
“What can I say? There are some things that I’m willing to be more traditional on. Besides, I like the sound of that,” I laugh. I grab his hand and take one step back, looking seriously at him. “Okay, honest question. Who was worse when you asked: my dad or my brother?”<br/>
<br/>
“Definitely Leo,” he grins at me, “but he’s not that bad. He just wants to protect you. I think he forgets you’re a superhero.”<br/>
<br/>
“Please don’t tell me you’re letting him be in the wedding.”<br/>
<br/>
“Too late, but I think Wanda can scare him into submission.” His smile turns more gentle now. “I’ll get the wedding rings made as soon as I can,” Steve assures me as we start back toward the compound. We pass the little boy from earlier at the carousel, and Steve stops talking long enough to give him a thumbs up with his hand that isn’t holding mine. He then raises his arm and twirls me around, making the kid (and me) grin. “I just wanted to make sure you would say yes before I did.”<br/>
<br/>
“Steve,” I sigh, tearing up a little bit again as we walk away, “when have I ever had a reason to say no?”<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
I pin four stiff white cards, all with different rough design options on them, to the fridge with a magnet and retreat quickly, though I know they’ll notice me in here with my raspberry-toned hair, and I’m the only one of us who can turn invisible. The rest of the team wanders into the kitchen just seconds later, Natasha at the front. She looks up at Steve and me, leaning against the counter, his arm around me, and turns to glance at the refrigerator. Her eyes pinpoint the invitations instantly.<br/>
<br/>
“‘Megan Delaney Levesque and Steven Grant Rogers cordially invite you to join them in celebrating their wedding’?!” she reads, her voice rising in pitch with each word. “When did this happen?”<br/>
<br/>
I think for a second. “Um, a couple hours ago. That’s what we were doing once we came home from Central Park.”<br/>
<br/>
“And you managed to keep it from us for that long?”<br/>
<br/>
I roll my eyes at her. “We were alone designing those on a computer. Nobody paid attention when we walked in or bothered to come sniff the news out.” I hold up my left hand, the ring glinting conspicuously in the light, and snuggle closer to Steve proudly.<br/>
<br/>
“Just kidding, we totally knew,” Nat says, brushing my remark off. “We just thought you’d prefer to tell us when you were ready rather than have us push the subject.”<br/>
<br/>
“Are you serious? You all knew?” I say, standing up straighter. They all nod slowly.<br/>
<br/>
“About time,” Tony jokes. He steps closer and puts one hand on my fiancé’s shoulder, grinning. “I’m happy for you guys.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks, Tony,” Steve says, smiling and pulling me closer to him.<br/>
<br/>
“Did you know first, I assume?” I ask, wiggling my ring finger. “I mean, since you helped make this? Did you assume he’d already done it when you kinda spoiled it in here a few weeks ago?”<br/>
<br/>
“...Yeah. Sorry.”<br/>
<br/>
I roll my eyes. “Oh, Tony.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yay! This is so exciting!” Wanda exclaims.<br/>
<br/>
“There’s still a while until the wedding, right?” Charlie asks, emerging from the center of the huddle.<br/>
<br/>
“Not quite a year.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, yeah, that’ll be plenty of time,” she says dismissively. “Don’t want my best friend turning into Bridezilla under pressure.”<br/>
<br/>
Peter jumps forward out of the crowd. Steve relinquishes his hold on me as Peter sprints forward and hugs me. “It’s really happening, Meg? You’re really getting married?”<br/>
<br/>
Still holding him, I smile. “Yeah, Peter, it’s happening. I know, it still feels totally unbelievable for me too.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m so happy for you,” he says, his voice thick. He lets go of me and proceeds to do some sort of complicated secret handshake with Steve. “You make my big sis happy,” he states as they finish the elaborate combination. “I’m glad. Congrats, guys.”<br/>
<br/>
“She makes me happy too,” Steve replies, giving me a tiny smile and gesturing for me to come back. Neither of us flinches at him calling me “big sis”.<br/>
<br/>
“Can we count on all of you to be there?” I ask our friends.<br/>
<br/>
“Of course!” Tony exclaims. “This is a celebration! Plus, it gives me the perfect opportunity to embarrass you both with my jokes.”<br/>
<br/>
Tony proceeds to make several suggestive comments right then and there. He’s right--I am embarrassed. Several of the others steer him away from us as the rest come to give their congratulations: Thor, hugging us both so tightly he could quite possibly crush my bones; Pepper, squealing as she runs up to hug us both; Wanda, offering her help and her enthusiastic congratulations. Bucky strolls over and elbows Steve, grinning hugely, and I realize that he was probably in on it the whole time too. Sam soon joins in, and I finally have to ask how exactly the two of them were involved.<br/>
<br/>
“Just moral support, really,” Sam answers.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, we only motivated him and eased his fears about asking you and helped him plan everything out for his birthday and scoured the entire planet looking for that diamond,” Bucky says sarcastically, slinging one arm around Steve’s shoulders. “But that’s not what matters. You’re getting married!” He pauses and grins evilly at the two of us. “Mrs. Rogers. Wow. The little punk finally got the girl.”<br/>
<br/>
“Let’s go out and watch the fireworks,” Rhodey suggests with a smile. We all hike up the many flights of stairs to the roof and emerge into the dark summer evening, where fireworks begin to explode in the sky. Steve pulls me close to him as we watch the light display in wonder. Just as the last firework of the finale shoots into the sky, he spins my body toward his and kisses me suddenly. Someone pulls out a phone and starts taking pictures, but I kiss Steve as if it’s just the two of us, without a care in the world.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
“Why am I even here again?” Charlie whines.<br/>
<br/>
“As my maid of honor, you are obligated to help me hunt for the perfect dress,” I huff, not even looking at her as I lean over to dig through the poufs of tulle and satin on the rack for a safety pin.<br/>
<br/>
“As your maid of honor, I say just find one with pockets and move on. There’s no perfect dress, Meg.” I gasp in horror and turn on her, my face a dramatic mask. “By the way, you’re unzipped,” she snickers.<br/>
<br/>
I roll my eyes and hop off the stand in front of the mirrors, holding the dress up by the bodice. “Come on, Char, this is the only time I’m asking you to help me out in the fashion department. If you want, I’ll even pay you back by picking out your wedding dress for you when the time comes so you don’t have to.” I pout. “Please?”<br/>
<br/>
“No way. You are never choosing a dress for me after the stupid bridesmaid dress I have to wear.” She crosses her arms. “Was this what you were like shopping for prom?”<br/>
<br/>
“This is so much bigger than prom, Charlie,” I counter, fluffing the skirt of another potential dress on the rack. “This is--”<br/>
<br/>
“--the best day of your life so far, blah blah blah,” Charlie finishes. “You’ve told me about a hundred times.”<br/>
<br/>
“Come on, Charlie,” I sigh and turn around to look at her. “Don’t you ever think about falling in love?” I ask gently.<br/>
<br/>
“No,” she answers, “but maybe it just gets a bad rep from you.”<br/>
<br/>
“Hey!” I shout incredulously.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m kidding!” She pauses. “Does that get me kicked out of your wedding party though?”<br/>
<br/>
I shake my head in disbelief. “If it’s any solace to you, your dress has pockets, and there will be alcohol, so we both know Tony’s gonna try to drink a bit too much and make a fool of himself. I’d really prefer that didn’t happen, but he’ll find some way to get more if we limit him. Maybe you should be on damage control so he doesn’t ruin my wedding reception.”<br/>
<br/>
Charlie grins. She reaches into the layers of dresses hanging beside her, pulling one out from the mess of white and pastels. “Seventy-first time’s the charm,” she says, handing it to me.<br/>
<br/>
I look over it once, evaluating how the uneven skirt and longer sleeves will look on me, and slip into it. I walk to the mirror, pulling my hair out of its pin, and gasp. “It’s-- It’s perfect!” I shriek.<br/>
<br/>
“Boom. Called it.”<br/>
<br/>
I hug Charlie until she squeaks from the pain. Just then, someone knocks on the door to the expansive fitting room. “We’re back,” Tony says. “Pep and the girls got the shoes, nail stuff, and makeup you requested, plus your bachelorette party gifts, and we got suits and flowers ordered. I started Steve on setting up the catering on the website, so he’s out in the shop, if you want to show us any of your options.”<br/>
<br/>
“Actually, I just found the perfect dress,” I say, swinging the door open. “Only took seventy-one tries.”<br/>
<br/>
My friends are all clustered outside the door, each one’s mouth dropped into a tiny O. “As the father of the bride, may I just say, it’s lovely,” Tony jokes, removing his sunglasses and folding them into the pocket of his jacket. “You want a picture for the fam?”<br/>
<br/>
I smile as Charlie gives Tony my phone. He takes some photos, and I send my mom the pictures of the dress from all sides.<br/>
<br/>
Just as I close the door to change back, Charlie looks up from inspecting the garment tag on the hanger. “Meg, this dress is four thousand dollars.”<br/>
<br/>
“What? That can’t be right.” I pick up the skirt and hurry to her side, peering down at the bag. I moan sadly. “We only budgeted half of that for a dress, and that was the absolute max! What am I gonna do?”<br/>
<br/>
“Meg…” Charlie says cautiously.<br/>
<br/>
I snatch my phone off the seat and dial my dad’s number. My finger hovers over the call button, but I hesitate. I shut it off and toss it aside, plopping down on the big round seat with my face in my hands. “What do I do?” I moan.<br/>
<br/>
“Meg?” Steve is right outside the door. “Is everything alright?”<br/>
<br/>
I sniffle. “Everything’s fine, except for the fact that my perfect dress costs twice as much as what I hoped to pay for it.”<br/>
<br/>
Silence. “Will you let me in?”<br/>
<br/>
“No! You can’t see it!” Even though I won’t be walking down the aisle in it. I jump off the cushion and fly into a frenzy. “Gimme a minute.”<br/>
<br/>
Charlie helps me slip out of the dress, and I change back into my normal clothes. I walk across the small room, barefoot, and open the door sadly, falling into my fiancé’s open arms.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re sure this is the dress?” he whispers.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be,” I sob against his chest.<br/>
<br/>
“What if I paid for the other half of it?” he offers.<br/>
<br/>
I step back and stare tearfully into his eyes. “I can’t ask you to do that for me.”<br/>
<br/>
“I want to. I want our wedding to be everything you’ve dreamed of. Besides, what’s mine will be yours soon enough, so we’ll be sharing money along with everything else. It’s not a big deal.”<br/>
<br/>
“But it is a big deal. This is a couple thousand dollars you’re offering.” I hug him again. “Thank you, but are you sure about this?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah. I told you my money’s been gathering interest for over a century, so I don’t think you’ll put me in too much of a tough spot. Plus, the government owes me a lot of money.”<br/>
<br/>
“Why?” I question.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s a long story.”<br/>
<br/>
“Remind me to ask you about it some other time,” I say.<br/>
<br/>
“Okay.” He kisses me and grins. “Can I take a peek at it then?”<br/>
<br/>
“No!” I cry, poking him playfully. “It’s supposed to be a surprise for you.”<br/>
<br/>
“Fine,” he says. “Go get it bagged up in something non-transparent, and let me know when you’re done.”<br/>
<br/>
I waltz back into the dressing room with a gigantic grin on my face and start dancing around really stupidly once I shut the door.<br/>
<br/>
“He’s buying half your dress?” Charlie asks in a toneless voice as I hang the dress on its hanger. “Wow, that man really knows the way to your heart.”<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
I walk up the staircase and step out onto the dark bridge. The lights are low, creating a halo, almost like a spotlight, in the dead center of the floor. Steve leans against the railing to one side, but he stands up and crosses to me as soon as he sees me. We meet in the circle of light and stand in silence for a couple seconds.<br/>
<br/>
“Thank you for this,” he says hesitantly. “I really want to be able to dance with you at the wedding without looking stupid.”<br/>
<br/>
I smile at him. “You’re welcome, Steve. And besides, we both know I’m more likely to make a fool of myself at our wedding than you are.” I take one of his hands and give my fiancé a tiny kiss on the cheek. “Can I have this dance?”<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
The night before we leave the States, my bridesmaids and Maria insist that I have a bachelorette party. I finally give in to their demands and let them drag me downtown for the evening. We have dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, where they shower me with presents too inappropriate for my bridal shower. I feel my face turning bright red with embarrassment as I open each gift. They all insist that they couldn’t choose just one gift for me, so I open box after box of unspeakable items. “Ingredients for perfect fondue,” they claim.<br/>
<br/>
The second-to-last one, from Charlie, makes me blush in a different way though. It’s a silly sash with the words “Bride-to-Be” written on it in curly letters. “You have to wear it for the rest of the night,” she commands. I roll my eyes and shrug it on over my shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
I pick up the last gift, which is from Nat. It’s thick and heavy. Curious, I peel back the paper to find a large photo album. I open its heavy cover and skim through page after page of photos and mementos from my time with Steve.<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks, Nat,” I say, blinking back tears. Then I take a second glance at the pages. There are photos that could only be found on our personal devices and little keepsakes that are surely hidden away. “How did you….”<br/>
<br/>
“Best not to ask that question, Meg,” she answers. “That’s why I saved it for tonight.” She winks at me, and I shove the nudge of fear out of my mind and try to focus on my gratitude. “Make sure to share that with Steve, too. It’s kind of for both of you.”<br/>
<br/>
I’m weirded out, but she won’t explain her methods or her madness further, so I drop the subject, allowing the conversation to return to normal.<br/>
<br/>
After dinner, they take me to a club. It’s crowded, but we eventually get into the groove and start dancing.<br/>
<br/>
“Won’t you miss this?” a passing stranger asks me, eyeing the sash.<br/>
<br/>
“What, parties? Dancing? Making a fool of myself with my friends? What makes you think I’m losing that?” I reply sharply as she moves along. Judgmental jerk. I roll my eyes and follow my friends off the dance floor, where they all toast to me with a round of drinks.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
It’s after midnight when we get home. I expect to return to a quiet, sleeping tower, but all the guys are still up, playing pool and drinking. They cheer when we walk in. Steve sets down his pool cue and crosses the floor to me.<br/>
<br/>
“They didn’t change your mind, did they?” he whispers in my ear.<br/>
<br/>
“Not even close.” I eye the other guys, briefly analyzing their behavior and expressions for any sign of change. “What about you? How was the bachelor party?”<br/>
<br/>
“We’ll just say I still favor you over single life.” He smiles at me, a sign of relief. “Was it fun, then?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Can You Fix Cold Feet With Good Shoes?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Natasha pulls the curling iron out of the last section of my hair, dousing my head with what must be an entire can of hairspray, just as a knock sounds at the door. As she, Wanda, Pepper, Carol, and Charlie swarm to the door to approve or turn away our visitor, I study my reflection in the full-length mirror. My hair hangs past my shoulders in loose, gorgeous curls, held back from my face by two tiny rope braids converging at the back. I feel elegant, almost like a princess. I smile at myself and stand up from the stool, moving over to the couch against the wall.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re not supposed to be in here!” Nat hisses at whoever is outside the door. “Go away!”<br/>
<br/>
There can only be one person who would elicit that sort of a reaction on this day. “Let him in, Nat. I’m nowhere close to ready yet. It’s okay,” I say, standing up off the couch and tottering in my stilettos.<br/>
<br/>
Natasha rolls her eyes and opens the door wider. My four bridesmaids and my maid of honor scoot aside, clearing a path for the unwelcome visitor.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey, Meg,” Steve says, taking several strides closer to me, hands in his pockets.<br/>
<br/>
“We’ll give you two some privacy,” Pepper says graciously, herding the other four out the door and closing it behind them.<br/>
<br/>
“Hi,” I greet him shyly. What’s wrong with me? Why am I so nervous?<br/>
<br/>
Steve seems to be thinking something along the same lines, although probably nicer. “Is everything okay? You aren’t getting cold feet on me, are you?” he asks, genuinely concerned even in his joke.<br/>
<br/>
I shake my head and sit back down on the couch with a frown. He follows suit and puts one arm around me, angling my body towards him. “I was actually…worried about you.”<br/>
<br/>
Steve’s eyebrows furrow and he tilts his head in confusion. “Why?”<br/>
<br/>
“Are you-- are you sure you’re ready to…to commit to this? To me?” My lip quivers, and a tear slides down my cheek before I can wipe it away.<br/>
<br/>
His confused expression softens and he takes my hands in his. “Meg.” He manages to put so much love and affection behind the one syllable, it amazes me. “If this is about my…past relationships, then you don’t need to worry. I’ve had time to work through all of my grief. You were an influential part of that. The past still makes me sad sometimes, but it’s better. I’ve made peace with it. When I first, uh, thawed out, I was overwhelmed by all the losses I had suffered, but as I got to know my team, found Bucky again, and then met you, the love of my life, I started to focus on what I’d gained instead. The stuff in my past affected me, but it’s now in my memories, not a base for comparison or anything like that. You don’t need to worry about measuring up because there’s no standard for you to beat. There’s no competition between the past and the present...just you. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. These past three years with you…this is the happiest I’ve ever been. Please never try to compare yourself or fit that mold, because I love you for you. My old life shaped who I am, but it’s in the past. I don’t have to live there anymore because for the first time, I have a future to look forward to. With you at the center of it.” He then proceeds to kiss me, and I just melt in his arms. “Does that answer your question?”<br/>
<br/>
It’s a good thing they haven’t done my makeup yet, because the tears flood to my eyes and I can’t contain them. Today’s gonna be an emotional day. I smile at my fiancé and nod, my throat tight with emotion. “Yeah, but I could use some clarification.” It doesn’t sound as sassy as it should when I’m all choked up like this.<br/>
<br/>
His laughing mouth makes contact with mine again, this time even more passionate and loving and reassuring than before. He pulls me closer, and I stretch toward him to increase the force I can use to kiss back.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t give everything away just yet,” Steve grins as he looks at me again. He winks. “You still have to give me a better kiss later.” I’m still crying, and I sort of weakly collapse into his chest. He panics for half a second, then starts stroking my hair. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay? If you don’t want to do this today--”<br/>
<br/>
“No, no, I’m alright. I just need to get out of my own head,” I say with a sniffle. I pause and take a breath before continuing. “I guess I’m primed to cry at the slightest thing today. This is the second time my life is going to completely change because of you, so of course I’m emotional.” I wipe the tears off my cheeks and look at him. “Plus, you know, everybody cries at weddings, so I’m allowed. But today is definitely the day. I’m ready. You and me, together.”<br/>
<br/>
“Forever.” He laughs, still hugging me. “I love you, Megs, and I will as long as I live. Even if we’re wrong about being forever young, I will always love you,” he whispers, kissing my hair. He pulls back and looks me in the face, serious again. “So you’re not afraid?”<br/>
<br/>
“No.” I sniffle. “Nervous, but not afraid. I don’t want this to end. Not now, not ever. I love you.” There’s a pause. “Are you ready?” I ask, wrapping my arms around him.<br/>
“We wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” he laughs, kissing my forehead. “Are you?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” I breathe, exhaling in relief. I let go of Steve and we stand up.<br/>
<br/>
“Nice shoes,” he teases.<br/>
<br/>
“Got to take the first step into the future in style, right?” I laugh.<br/>
<br/>
"I think you're really just trying to be as tall as me," he chuckles.<br/>
<br/>
I punch his arm playfully. “Is everything ready out there?”<br/>
<br/>
“Decorations are up, food and drinks are stocked, and all our people are present.” He smirks and pulls me closer. “I’m probably overstaying my welcome with your bridesmaids,” he says. He raises one of my hands to his face and kisses it softly, eyes on my face the whole time. “Only a few more hours until I’ll see you again, and then I’ll be able to call you Mrs. Rogers.” He smiles crookedly at me, watching the blush color my cheeks, and lets go of my hands, standing up and turning back for the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a wedding to get ready for.”<br/>
<br/>
“I would hope so, since it’s ours,” I laugh as he turns to leave.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Here Comes the Bride (and Her Gossiping Squad)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The girls rush back in, shooing Steve away and shutting the door behind him. My mom follows them in to check up on the progress before dashing out again to work on the preparations. She’s been running all over the place all day. My friends quickly turn around and immediately give me varying degrees of the sassy stare. I just shrug, kick off the heels, and return quietly to my stool.<br/>
<br/>
Pepper moves around to my face, opening several makeup bags and rummaging around in them. “What was that about?” she asks as she starts applying a base coat to my face. Her voice is caught halfway between effectively fake-casual and gossipy, excited teenage girl.<br/>
<br/>
“Just checking up on me,” I answer. “Making sure our American dream was still coming true after all.”<br/>
<br/>
“American Dream, huh?” Carol says, raising her eyebrows suspiciously. What could she possibly be thinking?<br/>
<br/>
“You brushed your teeth after lunch, right?” Charlie asks, determined to change the subject from romance for as long as possible.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” I sigh. “I remembered, Charlie. You only drilled it into my head about forty times while we were at the spa this morning. And while I got ninety percent of the hair waxed off my body last night. And when we flew across an ocean and a large piece of the African continent the other day. Trust me, I remembered.”<br/>
<br/>
Wanda takes her place behind my head, hands positioned at either side. “Pepper, you might want to move,” she advises, magic sparking from her fingertips. Pepper steps back as the magical currents stream out of Wanda’s palms and into my hair, slowly turning the fuchsia color to a rich burgundy, almost wine-like shade, which transitions through a strip of purple to bright blue. The red is natural enough that it doesn’t look ridiculous for a bride. “All done! I did the spell this time so it’ll change at your will and stay until you change your mind again. That way you don’t have to rely on me for it anymore.” She raises one eyebrow suggestively at my reflected face. “In case you want to be like your own little mood ring.”<br/>
<br/>
Another knock sounds at the door. Dramatically rolling her eyes, Charlie stomps over to get it. I have a feeling she’s preparing to yell if it’s Steve again.<br/>
<br/>
“Hi,” Laura Barton trills cheerfully from the other side of the door.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh! Hey, Laura,” Charlie says. “Hey, Hope.”<br/>
<br/>
“Scott sent me to bring Cassie,” Hope explains. “I don’t know how well he understands wedding traditions and superstitions, since I think he's convinced he can't see Meg…. Anyway, I got her ready, but I just did the basics so you could add whatever you needed to....”<br/>
<br/>
“I came to bring Lila over here too,”  Laura explains. “Didn’t want the junior bridesmaid getting lost in here. I curled her hair and she did her makeup, but I wasn’t sure if Meg wanted her to paint her nails….”<br/>
<br/>
They all look expectantly at me. I clear my throat and think for a second, answering, “We can match her nails to the rest of ours. We’ve got plenty of polish. Thanks, guys.”<br/>
“Mom, I put my makeup in your purse, right? I wanted to bring it in case Aunt Meg needed to fix it.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s right here, honey,” Laura answers, passing the bag to her daughter and hugging her. “Be good for your aunts, okay? I’m going to go help your uncles finish setting up, if there’s anything left to do, after I make sure Dad got Cooper and Nate to the right place.”<br/>
<br/>
Lila smiles and walks into the room, tiny Cassie close behind, and Nat and Wanda lead them into the bathroom. Laura and Hope wave and silently excuse themselves. Pepper goes back to working on my face as Carol and Charlie pick up tiny plastic packages off the table next to the mirror. They tear them open and begin delicately placing petite rhinestones in my hair. “Remind me why you wanted these again, Meg?” Charlie snarks.<br/>
<br/>
“I get to be the princess today, Charlie. And that means sparkles.” I roll my eyes, trying to stay still so as not to screw up any aspect of my appearance. She mutters something like “When are you not?” from behind me, but I elect to ignore her. Pepper moves back and forth in front of my face for several minutes, adding blush and highlighter, painting on eyeshadow and blending it, tracing my lash lines with eyeliner, applying mascara, coating my lips with lipstick. When she finally steps back, my face is smooth, sparkly, and radiant.<br/>
<br/>
I stare at my reflection, my mouth dropping open. “That’s still me, right?” I whisper in disbelief.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, stop it!” Carol says, hitting my shoulder. Nat stands behind us; I didn’t hear her come back out. “You used to be a model. Aren’t you used to this?”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s been over three years since I got all-out pampered like this, Carol. It feels new to me again. Plus, it was less ‘Wow, gorgeous’ and more ‘Be prettier, skinnier, perkier, whatever you aren’t, so we pretend to like you more.’ So no, not really.”<br/>
<br/>
Wanda, emerging from the bathroom with my flower girls, steps behind me and leans over my left shoulder, grinning ear to ear. “You look amazing, as always.” I smile at her in the mirror. “Now let’s do your nails!”<br/>
<br/>
Even though I have close-toed shoes, the girls insist on painting my toenails as well. The only explanation I get is some eyebrow wiggling from all of them and one very energetic “Because it’s fun!” from Wanda. I think the vague answer is for Cassie’s benefit because I definitely know why they want to do it. I doubt it will even matter.<br/>
<br/>
Each of them except Charlie takes an identical bottle of blue glitter polish and starts painting my nails on one appendage as Lila and Cassie sit on the floor and ask me questions. This speeds up the process a lot. Charlie flops dramatically into a cushy armchair while the others work, and soon my nails are all shimmering in the subtle sunlight streaming through the window.<br/>
<br/>
Once my nails are dry and they’ve all done their own, Princess Shuri peeks in through the door. “I came to warn you that it’s three thirty, but you look like you have things under control,” she states. “Half an hour until showtime!” She grins at me and gives a thumbs up before closing the door again.<br/>
<br/>
I bounce off my stool as Pepper grabs the garment bag hanging in the closet. Quick as lightning, I unzip the bag and change into the dress. It feels magical. The lacy sleeves, set off my shoulders, reach halfway between my elbows and wrists. The skirt is a beautiful cascade of tulle ruffles, touching the floor in the back but curving up to expose my feet in the front. I love the way it looks, plus it’ll help me avoid tripping, which is the last thing I need today. I step back into my silver rhinestone-encrusted heels and twirl around for the seven of them, and they all applaud with ecstatic smiles on their faces.<br/>
<br/>
I sit back on the stool for the final touches on the ensemble. Pepper hangs a string of diamonds, an early wedding present for me from her and Tony, around my neck to temporarily replace my regular necklace. I put in the dangling earrings to match as she steps back. Wanda delicately places a shimmering silver tiara atop my head, and Charlie pins the veil into place as Carol spritzes me with a shimmery perfume.<br/>
<br/>
I mentally review my checklist once more: something old (the restored antique tiara), something new (the necklace), something borrowed (Pepper’s garter), and something blue (my nail polish). Everything’s covered.<br/>
<br/>
In a moment of panic, I realize I don’t have my engagement ring on. Nat, of course, saves the day. She darts into the bathroom and comes out a second later, ring in hand.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t forget that,” she jokes, tossing it to me. I manage to catch it, rolling my eyes as I do so. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint poor Steve, would you?”<br/>
<br/>
Ignoring her, I slide the ring onto my finger and turn to look in the mirror. My friends close ranks and surround me, all beaming at my reflection and hugging me. Cassie, tiny as she is, and Lila, who hasn’t hit her growth spurt yet, step in front of me in the mirror, and I wrap my arms around the two of them. As soon as I met my fellow Avengers’ kids, I fell in love with them, so finding a ring bearer and flower girl was no issue. Cooper and Lila were a little more complicated, being teenagers and all, but I didn’t want to exclude them, so we worked the situation out. I let go of them with one arm and attempt to pull the other four into an awkward one-armed half-hug. “Thank you,” I say, overcome with happiness. They all murmur their replies and lean in closer.<br/>
<br/>
“Shoot! We need to get ready!” Charlie exclaims, interrupting the moment.<br/>
<br/>
Thankfully, they all had the sense to do their own hair and makeup while not styling me, so for the most part, they just have to change clothes. The seven of them slip on their bright blue dresses and matching silver rhinestone shoes (flats for the younger girls), checking their reflections as they finish. I take the opportunity then to present them all with customized silver rhinestone Converse for the reception. Charlie looks as if she might cry with joy. My only stipulation is that she at least takes pictures wearing the heels. They all heed my warning.<br/>
<br/>
My mom peeks through the door again, insisting on taking a picture, giving me a giant hug and some words of encouragement, and hurrying back out to finish things up.<br/>
<br/>
“Ready, princess?” Charlie jokes, coming to stand next to me in front of the mirror. She puts her elbow on my shoulder and grins at me. “Big day.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m ready,” I answer, my voice weak, but my smile compensating.<br/>
<br/>
“Wait, no, you can’t go out there like this.” She starts scrubbing at my cheek with her thumb. “Loose sparkle,” she explains in response to my irritated look. “I got it.”<br/>
<br/>
“Then take your bouquet and let’s get out there!” Carol exclaims, passing two bouquets of red, white, and blue roses to us. My bridesmaids converge upon me one more time in a massive group hug, being careful not to squish anyone’s dress or flowers or hair. Then Wanda flings the door open and gestures to it. Giggling, the eight of us exit the room and walk down the hall and through the maze of the Wakandan royal palace. We reach the doors leading outside and linger just within them, waiting for the rest of the wedding party to arrive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Bucky Cures the Sads!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Soon, the guys show up, exactly on time. All of them start pairing up correctly for the procession, reflecting that they did actually pay attention when we rehearsed. Pepper and Tony are at the front of the line, followed by Natasha and Sam, Wanda and Leo, Carol and Thor. Charlie, behind the last two, turns around to give me a huge grin and a thumbs up. Leo also turns to look at me, but he just widens his eyes and sticks out his tongue, then squints in thought. Probably plotting more annoying stuff he’s planning to do later. Cooper, Lila, Cassie, and Nathaniel fall into line, the last two one behind the other, just as my dad walks in.<br/>
<br/>
“Wow,” he says. “You look so beautiful, honey.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, my throat suddenly thick with tears. There’s no way I’ll make it through today without crying at least once. I hope Pepper used some setting spray to hold my makeup in place, or I’ll be a hot mess by the end of the night.<br/>
<br/>
“Can you believe this place? It’s huge,” he says in awe, admiring the amazing architecture of the hall alone. “I can’t imagine how you became friends with a king.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s all a part of the job,” I joke. “I was surprised T’challa let us have the wedding here.”<br/>
<br/>
“It was very generous of him.” He nods in agreement. “Are you ready?” Everybody keeps asking that. Do they think I want to back out? Yes, I’m nervous, but that doesn’t mean I’m not completely set on doing this.<br/>
<br/>
Unable to speak, I just nod, peering anxiously out the glass doors into the yard. I can see a small section of the white silk laid in the aisle between the people obstructing my view and the seats outside, quickly filling in with guests. I can’t see the altar from here.<br/>
<br/>
“He’s out there, Meg.”<br/>
<br/>
I turn at the sound of the voice, and there’s Bucky, smirking at me in the entrance to the hallway to my right. I walk over and give him an enormous hug, feeling immensely relieved for some reason.<br/>
<br/>
“I know what you were thinking. All the brides do it--at least, as far as I’m told. Look Meg, you’re all he’s been talking about for weeks--you, and this place, and the plans, and everything. This morning, he was practically bouncing off the walls, as much as Steve can be. The man can’t wait to marry you.” He rolls his eyes, and I have to laugh. “So don’t worry. He’s waiting for you out there.”<br/>
<br/>
“Aren’t you supposed to be out there too?” I accuse, raising an eyebrow at him and tilting my head toward the courtyard.<br/>
<br/>
“Change of plans. I’m walking with Charlie. And I’m only here on your groom’s orders.” He flashes me another smile before continuing. “He said you were worried about him earlier, so I was supposed to come and make you feel better. I don’t really see how that’s my job, but I guess he can’t see you yet, and everyone else is back here, so…yeah. I’m here. Do you feel better?”<br/>
<br/>
I roll my eyes at him. “Yeah, I do. Thanks, Bucky.”<br/>
<br/>
He hugs me again. “Any time. And I forgot to mention that you look…amazing.”<br/>
<br/>
“Are you hitting on me? That’s low,” I tease, laughing as he lets go. “I’m just kidding. Thank you. Now run along and tell him I’m okay! We’ve got to get this show on the road!”<br/>
<br/>
With that, Bucky bows playfully and takes off back down the hallway. I watch him reappear outside a moment later, whispering something to an invisible Steve on the small stage at the front as I return to my father’s side. Bucky dashes back in and takes his place beside Charlie, flashing me a quick wink and a wide grin. I catch sight of Maria at the enormous white piano to the right of the aisle, and, as if on cue, she commences playing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. All of My Wildest Dreams Have Come True</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I don’t notice that the glass doors are open until Pepper and Tony make their way out. Natasha and Sam wait a moment, and then they too step out the doors. Wanda and Leo follow, then Carol and Thor, and then Charlie and Bucky exit the building. Cooper, Lila, Cassie, and Nathaniel proceed after them, Cassie showering the path with rose petals.<br/>
<br/>
My dad nudges me, and I snap out of my trance. We walk slowly out of the building and into the courtyard, down the snow-white silk aisle laden with red roses. Maria winks at me as I pass, and then I lay eyes on Steve. My breath hitches in my chest at the sight of the perfect suit over his chiseled muscles. He looks…absolutely wonderful. Better than I ever could’ve dreamt. As soon as he catches sight of me, his mouth drops open. I smile at him, trying and failing to fight the blush rising in my cheeks. Of course I’d be a blushing bride. But it doesn’t matter. My steps feel surer and steadier, my heart lighter than it’s ever been before, knowing what’s ahead.<br/>
<br/>
We stop at the stage, which stands in front of a beautiful vine-and-rose arch and overlooks the breathtaking Wakandan landscape, and my father lets go of me, kissing my forehead and placing my hands in Steve’s. As he sits down, Steve, his expression wondrous, whispers a tiny “wow” to me, causing me to snicker and blush even brighter.<br/>
<br/>
We turn our attention to Nick, who’s presiding over the ceremony, as his deep voice begins, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Steven Grant Rogers and Megan Delaney Levesque….”<br/>
<br/>
Everything proceeds as smoothly as possible. Except for Bucky’s last-minute switch-up, nothing else deviates from the perfectly crafted plan. When Nick asks for objections, I think there’s actually a negative amount of noise. He then announces that we’ve written our own vows to share with each other today.<br/>
<br/>
Steve takes a deep breath. “Meg, you are my one true love. That much I’ve known for a while now. I can’t see the future, but I know that whatever happens, that won’t change. You are the most loving person I’ve ever met, and I am so fortunate to have you. Today, I’m honored--humbled, really--to take you to be my wife. I promise to be faithful, deserving of your trust, and loving to you every single day. I vow to love and respect you, laugh with you, cherish you, cry with you, and catch you when you fall.”<br/>
<br/>
“Do you vow to do all these things for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” Nick asks.<br/>
<br/>
“I do.” Steve smiles uncontrollably at me. “Parce que je t’aime [because I love you].”<br/>
<br/>
All eyes turn to me now. “Steve.” I inhale and close my eyes just long enough to calm my nerves. “For the longest time, I wondered when I was going to find my soulmate. I saw love everywhere, and I wanted my turn. Then an accidental circumstance threw us into each other’s company, and I found you. I’m so happy you’re the one I get to spend the rest of my life with you, and, despite what you might think, I’m grateful for the accidents that brought us together. Today, I’m ecstatic to take you to be my husband. I promise to love, respect, and listen to you each and every day. I vow to support you in your endeavors, comfort you, help you with anything and everything, laugh with you, and remind you how amazing you are.”<br/>
<br/>
“Do you vow to do all these things for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”<br/>
<br/>
“I do, parce que je t’aime [because I love you].” My eyes are brimming with happy tears, and my lips turn up into a huge smile.<br/>
<br/>
We then take the rings from Nathaniel and say the traditional “With this ring, I thee wed.” Neither of us can stop smiling. I have to fight very hard to contain my overjoyed tears.<br/>
<br/>
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Nick states at last, trying to hide his obvious smile. How long I’ve waited to hear those words. “You may kiss the bride.” Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in close to him, pressing his lips against mine. I throw my arms around his neck, and he lifts me into the air.<br/>
<br/>
After that moment, we stand upright and start back down the aisle. The audience cheers and releases gorgeous Wakandan butterflies into the air as we pass. The delicate creatures flurry past us, and I’m suddenly very grateful that we opted for butterflies instead of hard grains of rice. Steve turns to look at me, nothing but love, adoration, and pure joy in his eyes. “I love you,” he whispers to me as we go inside.<br/>
<br/>
“I love you, too,” I say, turning to face him as we stop within the confines of the palace, the early rays of the purple sunset falling on us through the glass. He pulls me close, his hands on my waist, and lifts me off my feet again, and I put my arms around his neck, closing the distance between us as we kiss again. Both of us are trying very hard not to cry. The others come in behind us, making disgruntled and disgusted sounds as they pass our display of affection.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Too Many Models Challenge the Photographer? Is That the Saying?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once we regroup and everyone shuts up about the kiss, we take some pictures before going to the reception. Maria, who volunteered to be the post-ceremony photographer as well (as a backup in case the one we hired totally fails), starts by taking pictures of all us girls and all the guys because she knows that Steve and I are going to be inseparable if we stay together too long.<br/>
<br/>
Before Maria starts taking pictures, Natasha quickly brushes a couple of tears off her cheeks. “Are you crying, Nat?” I ask softly.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m not completely emotionless, Levesque,” she retorts with a glare. It’s rare for her to call me by my last name. She doesn’t usually get that defensive with me.<br/>
<br/>
“Actually, it’s Rogers now,” Steve says, sidling up behind me, putting his arms around my waist, and planting a kiss on my cheek. He stares intensely at Nat. “Keep that in mind, Romanoff.” She laughs so hard more tears come streaming down her face.<br/>
<br/>
My bridesmaids cluster around me and pose goofily as the camera clicks away. “Hey, it’s the Spice Girls,” Tony calls. “Well, plus Charlie and Carol.”<br/>
<br/>
“Huh?” Maria says, shooting him a weird look before returning to her task.<br/>
<br/>
“Nutmeg, Pepper, Paprika, and Ginger,” Tony explains, pointing to each one of us in turn. “And the...dragon fruit and carrot.” He deliberates for a second. “Actually, now that I think about it, I can’t really call the bride Nutmeg yet--she’s just Meg for now. But maybe Steve could help h--”<br/>
<br/>
“Tony!” Steve reprimands. Tony throws his hands up in mock surrender, still mouthing his arguments at me. I’m caught between blushing and laughing hysterically. I can’t believe him.<br/>
<br/>
After the group shots, Maria then takes some individual shots of us with each of our friends (this includes Bucky carrying me on his back [an impressive feat, considering I’m wearing a long poufy dress], Steve and Leo arm-wrestling, and other goofy exploits), and finally some of just the two of us. We pose on the stairs and around the architecture of the palace. They line up four chairs, and Steve and I sit between the maid of honor and the best man, Charlie and I holding hands in an unrealistically cheesy way and Steve and Bucky fist-bumping. At Nat’s prompting, someone brings out Steve’s shield, and we recreate our three-years-past battle kiss behind it. That one, she insists, is definitely getting framed for the wall.<br/>
<br/>
“I have an idea,” Leo pipes up.<br/>
<br/>
“What?” I say, dreading the answer.<br/>
<br/>
“Well, little sis, you are a superhero….” Simply put, I end up fake-punching the ground, and all the guys jump as if I’ve sent them flying. The other girls giggle at the idiots as they fall over repeatedly to get a good shot.<br/>
<br/>
We take some more pictures, laughing at each other the entire time, until Carol notes that we’ve been doing this for like forty-five minutes and we should probably get to our party.<br/>
<br/>
Still laughing, we all traipse through the halls (of course Steve and I are holding hands, what did you expect?) to the larger courtyard, which has a beautiful view of the night sky. It twinkles with tiny glistening lights suspended in the rose-perfumed air by magic. Our friends all burst in ahead of us, smiling at our guests, as Peter and Shuri stand on the stage, announcing their arrival on the microphone. They laugh as Shuri calls, “Here come the newlyweds!”, and Steve and I push the doors open to the sound of applause. He twirls me once as we cross the grass before we take our seats at our table. Dinner service begins, my parents and King T’challa welcome everyone, and, as is tradition, the maid of honor and best man have speeches to give.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Embarrassment? Just Add a Microphone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>lots of secondhand embarrassment, consider yourself warned XD</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie steps up to the stage first. She trips as she gets up there and angrily kicks her shoes off onto the floor. I tighten my fingers on her shoe box beside me, feeling proud that I’ve kept her in the heels for this long. She grips the microphone and glares out into the audience for half a second before she speaks. “So, I would say that we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two wonderful people, blah blah blah, but that is both stereotypical and already known, and we all know I am not one to follow stereotypes,” she begins, utterly sarcastic. “That, and I am totally just winging it up here because someone” she coughs out my name “didn’t tell me I had to give a speech.” I knew she wouldn’t be my maid of honor if she knew that earlier, so yeah, I neglected that detail in the job description until about...last night. She protested, but after I begged and pleaded and groveled with her, she reluctantly agreed. So yes, I’m partially to blame for the upcoming trainwreck. “So excuse me for any of the unfiltered mess that will be following shortly. But back to the point. I was going to say something about this not being a stereotypical wedding either, but then I realized, spoiler alert, it actually is. We are all officially living a Disney princess movie, congratulations. I mean, we’re literally at a palace with a girl wearing a fancy ball gown and a tiara. Obvious, right?” She pauses. “Then again, I guess this is the first time that the princess has been the guy, not the girl.” She starts laughing hysterically, even though her dig makes no sense. “Steve, I would say I’m sorry, but we all knew this was going to happen as soon as I stood up, so it really is more your fault than mine. Blame your wife, the self-proclaimed American Dream.” She grins evilly at both of the terms now applicable to me. I know for a fact that I’m going to get a lot of teasing over the fact that I got married from her….<br/>
<br/>
She shifts her attention back to the room at large. “I technically wasn’t around for the inception of this relationship, but as soon as I arrived, Meg and Steve were making goo-goo eyes at each other and all that other romantic stuff that simultaneously made me want to puke and protect them with everything I had.” She makes a fake gagging sound.<br/>
<br/>
The crowd laughs, and Charlie turns to face the two of us once again. “Meg, you and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember, and even though I may not always show it, I am so, so, soooo happy for you, even though you totally deserve better. I’M KIDDING, I’M KIDDING, GEEZ, CALM DOWN. I’m really glad you found your soulmate, if that’s what you want to call this pest. Steve, I know that you and I are still trying to figure out how to get along, but I think you should know by now that if I mess with you, it means you are a part of my squad. Thanks for making my best friend happy. Good luck putting up with her.” Her small, sincere smile morphs into an impish grin with the last statement. “In other words, congrats! You two are officially hitched, and good luck with the rest of your lives, but watch out, ‘cuz I am here to stay. This is not the end of me or my jokes by any means. And now, I am going to pass the microphone off to the one-armed gent, but before I go, if anyone wants to hear embarrassing stories about small Meg, I have the motherload. Come and find me. I will tell you everything, and no, Meg, there is nothing you can do to stop me.” She laughs maniacally and steps aside, raising her champagne flute in a toast, as Bucky takes the microphone.<br/>
<br/>
“Sorry about Charlie, folks,” he laughs easily. “Meg, what on Earth possessed you to give her a microphone? That was almost as bad as the time that Steve tried to break up with you because he was insecure about his age, and we all know that was awful. Sorry to bring it up, bud, but it was bad. Thankfully, that didn’t last long, but seriously, most of us here would have become children of a divorce, and it might have been a full-out civil war. Oh wait, that already happened” he glares at Steve and Tony “because someone can’t talk about his feelings. I take that back, both of you can’t talk about your feelings!<br/>
<br/>
“Sorry, enough of that. I’m supposed to be talking about the bride and groom, not the groom and his friend and their disastrous history, and this is not supposed to be negative. Yikes, I’m doing a terrible job already. Sorry, guys.” He waves goofily in a circular motion as he tries to refocus.<br/>
<br/>
“On a related note to Steve’s feelings--Meg, thank you for opening up this emotionally constipated potato with the emotional range of a teaspoon, couldn’t have done it without you.” I smile at his Harry Potter reference as he continues. “Back to the point. I will go ahead and say, unlike Charlie, thank you all for coming to celebrate the union of two of my best friends. Having all of you here makes this day just that much more special for these two dorks sitting in front of me.” More snickering from the two of us.<br/>
<br/>
“When I look at these two, I can’t see anything other than unconditional love. I mean, this is a guy who jumped on a dummy grenade for near-strangers, so I can’t imagine there’s anything he wouldn’t do for the love of his life.” My eyes go wide as I look at Steve for confirmation. His expression tells me everything I need to know.<br/>
<br/>
“Steve, you have grown so, so much since that day in the alley when you insisted on fighting the bully, even though you were a small bean who could barely move without being blown over by the wind. And I mean you have literally become a bigger person, because WOW, as Meg would squeal, THE SIX PACK.” I burst out laughing at the truth of his statement, which alarms my grandmother and my great-aunt a few tables away. “Meg, however, has probably grown the most out of all of us. She went from a no-nonsense model with some confidence issues to a full-out uber nerd/hero who is often even more confused than the rest of us, and that’s saying something. Despite that, she really embraced her true self through her experiences the past three years, especially when it comes to Steve, and I think she moved beyond any aspiration to be a pageant girl, because honestly, why would she want to be Miss America now when she just became Mrs. America?” He winks at me. “Congratulations to you both. Everyone here--yes, including Charlie--is so happy for you and so grateful that we can be here to help you celebrate your special day. Thank you--”<br/>
<br/>
Charlie steals back the microphone and starts talking again. “All that he said, ditto for me, we love you, you’re so cute together, blah, blah, blah, but seriously, SO MANY EMBARRASSING STORIES. For instance, that time in kindergarten with the cucumbers and marshmallows-- NOPE, SORRY, GOTTA RUN, HERE COMES A VERY ANGRY BRIDEZILLA, BYEEEEEEE!” Charlie jumps off the stage and takes off running for the back of the lawn with the microphone as I jump up, about to run after her. She stops in the dark back corner beside an oversized rosebush and adjusts her hold on the microphone. “You know, since I do still have this microphone, and everyone can still hear me, why don’t I go ahead and enlighten you about the cucumbers and marshmallows….”<br/>
<br/>
Bucky hastily follows Charlie and snatches the microphone from her before she can either continue or take off again. “Well, that’s all from us, folks! I think we should stop now before the hole Charlie has dug herself into reaches the center of the Earth, so I’ll wish Meg and Steve a long, happy, fulfilling marriage, and we’ll be gone! Enjoy the rest of the reception!” We sip our champagne to his interrupted toast as he sneakily crushes the microphone with a grinding sound in his metal fist so Charlie can’t do any more damage. Never mind that he’ll have to pay for that; at least Charlie’s storytelling is temporarily out of commission.<br/>
<br/>
She returns to her seat beside me at the table grinning, but I don’t lash out at her. Instead, I actually start pleading with her, but of course she doesn’t listen. As if my best friend would waste an opportunity to embarrass me. She ignores me and we return to our conversation, catching an earful of Tony’s jokes as we eat. Charlie soon joins in on Tony’s teasing about my getting married, even though Tony’s literally sitting right beside his wife, and Steve squeezes my hand once before getting up to give his toast. The crowd applauds loudly as he approaches the stage, champagne in hand.<br/>
<br/>
“First and foremost, I’d like to thank all of you for coming today to celebrate this special occasion with my wife and me.” The crowd cheers for a moment. “I think this has been the most incredible day of my life, and there has been a lot of incredible days since I first met Meg.” Everyone awws and looks affected with emotion.<br/>
<br/>
“I’d also like to take this opportunity to thank several other important people for helping put all of this” he gestures around the venue “together for us. First, Louis and Christine, my wonderful bride’s parents--thank you both for all of your help and support through this process, and more importantly, thank you for accepting me as a part of your daughter’s life when we both just sort of showed up out of nowhere. She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met” his eyes slide back over to me “and I think some part of that is owed to her fantastic family.<br/>
<br/>
“I also need to thank a couple of my fellow Avengers. Bucky, you were actually fairly helpful for once, but more in the proposal stage; after that, you sorta stopped helping me with stuff and started teasing me about it. I think you were jealous. Jerk.” We all laugh as Bucky mutters “punk” under his breath. “Tony played his part in that stage by helping me make the very rings my wife and I are now wearing. We also owe our gratitude to T’challa and his family for letting us get married at their palace. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I owe you, man. Thank you all so much. We appreciate it.” There is a pause as everyone looks to the royal family’s table.<br/>
<br/>
“Meg.” Steve pivots a little bit and faces me with a smile on his face. “You look amazing tonight. I have to say, the moment I saw you in that dress, I was once again blown away by how extraordinarily beautiful you are.” I blush and smile at him as tears start to fill my eyes again. The crowd behind me awws at the two of us again before Steve moves on. “When I met you, my life completely changed. In three years, you taught me to dance and to look beyond my depression. I taught you to draw and to see yourself the way I do. And together, we taught each other how to heal from the past. That was something no one else could do for me. You are my other half, the one who completes me, the person who can instantly turn a horrible day into a good one. My sunflower. I feel like the luckiest man alive knowing that I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” He smiles at me, and I beam back. “Some of my fondest memories with Meg have been on our birthdays. We kissed for the first time on her birthday, and she agreed to go out with me then, and I proposed on my birthday--later, of course. Let’s see, it’s April, so I’ve got to figure out something big for your birthday next month.” He winks at me. “I’m sure your bridesmaids would be happy to help.” The girls giggle evilly around me at the conspiratorial thought. “I think the circumstances would indicate that they somewhat like you. Well, minus Charlie. I still can’t figure her out, except for that she’s a twenty-six-year-old brat who’s still determined to steal you from me.” The crowd laughs loudly, and I poke Charlie. One tiny bit of the payback she deserves. “But clearly I’ve won.<br/>
<br/>
“So tonight I’d like to make a toast to my better half. I hope that I can help you fulfill all of your dreams, and even if I can’t, I’m glad that I get to be beside you when you do anyway. You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, and it’s an honor to call you my wife. I know that the best is yet to come.” He raises his glass with a charming smile. “To us.”<br/>
<br/>
“To us,” I repeat, taking another sip of champagne and gazing into his eyes as he grins at me from the stage. He sits back down beside me, and I kiss him grandly in response. “I love you,” I whisper.<br/>
<br/>
“You stole my line,” he jokes before kissing me again.<br/>
<br/>
Apparently, at some point while planning, Steve and I decided that we would have an open mic after the big speeches were given. This was a bad choice. So many people get up there to tell quick anecdotes, sentiments, or jokes: Tony (“Too bad you didn’t put fondue on the menu, but I’m sure you two will get some tonight”), Nat (“I’ve always told myself that love is for children, and I’d like to think I’m still right. You two bring out each other’s youth, and, well, you know…”), Wanda (“There have never been two people with such compatible minds, hearts, and souls”), Peter (“So. You got married”), my cousin Marlene (“May your love be modern enough to survive the times, but old-fashioned enough to last forever”), Bruce (“You guys clearly have chemistry”), Scott (“Dr. Seuss said something about how weird life and people are. You’ve found your mutual weirdo”), Carol (“You two are glowing with happiness. It’s a good look”), Bucky again (“The night before I shipped out for war, I told you that you’d be the last eligible bachelor in New York amid millions of women, and that you’d surely win one’s heart. You doubted me, but it looks like I was right. It just took a while to find her”), and a few others. With each person, I sink further into my chair (especially when Leo gets up there). Steve can’t help laughing at me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A Squad, an Ex, and a Family Flex</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Finally, dinner is finished, and it’s time for the first dance. Steve leads me out onto the dance floor and pulls me close to him as the song begins. “You really do look stunning tonight, Mrs. Rogers,” he comments as we dance. He grins at me, and his joy is contagious. I can’t help but smile, even though I’m nowhere near used to hearing that. “I mean, especially stunning, because you always look beautiful. Charlie was right about one thing: you are a princess in the best possible way, and you put every other princess to shame.”<br/>
<br/>
I drop my gaze to the floor for a fraction of a second. “Thank you,” I say. “You look quite dashing yourself. I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing you dressed up quite this much before.”<br/>
<br/>
“That-- Are you embarrassed?” Steve asks, looking worried.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m just-- I don’t know. I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. I guess it seems silly to say I’m not used to being the center of attention. It might be the showering of compliments.”<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t I get to do that for you?”<br/>
<br/>
“I mostly meant from everyone else.” I raise my eyebrows playfully. “Or maybe it’s just this ‘Mrs. Rogers’ and ‘husband and wife’ business. I’m not used to it yet. But we do still have all night,” I say with a wink.<br/>
<br/>
“Meg!” he teasingly admonishes. “Do I need to stop--””<br/>
<br/>
I just smile at him and shake my head, nestling into his chest, and we keep dancing, spinning and twirling and swaying to the music. Steve traces one finger over my bare shoulder, sending tingles across my skin. “It’s a good thing we practiced dancing so much. I really can’t focus since I can see your shoulders.”<br/>
<br/>
I snort. “That’s it? That’s what it takes to turn you on?”<br/>
<br/>
He pulls me closer. “Maybe, or maybe not.” My cheeks flash with a sudden burst of heat. “Now I’ve got you blushing!” he laughs.<br/>
<br/>
As the song draws to its close, Steve kisses me again. It’s gentle, but just barely. There’s an undeniable edge of excitement to it. The crowd applauds, and the lineup of traditional dances continues.<br/>
<br/>
After our dances are over, we start making our way around the room to greet our guests. We stop and say hello to our fellow Avengers and their families first: Clint (wearing a fabulous bow tie) and Laura with their kids; Bruce; Scott, Hope, and Cassie; Stephen; T’Challa, Okoye, Nakia, and Queen Ramonda; and more. There are tons of hugs and excited congratulations all around, plus a few comments on speeches, and then we’re off to the next table.<br/>
<br/>
A blonde woman stands up from her table as we approach. She smiles at us once we are close enough to see her in the semi-darkness.<br/>
<br/>
“Steve,” she says with a nod. “Congratulations.”<br/>
<br/>
“Hey, Sharon,” Steve answers with a smile. “Thank you. Remind me, have you ever met my amazing wife Meg?”<br/>
<br/>
“No, I don’t believe I know the lucky lady, which is strange, given we both work for SHIELD,” she responds as they both turn to face me. I’m blushing so hard. Steve looks so proud of himself, which makes me both want to laugh and kiss him. “Nice to meet you, Meg,” Sharon continues, holding out her hand for me to shake.<br/>
<br/>
“So you’re Sharon,” I breathe as I shake her hand, trying incredibly hard not to sound bitter and annoyed with her. It isn’t her fault that I haven’t always been in the picture. I still think it’s creepy that she was with her great-aunt’s ex, but I don’t want to judge. I don’t know everything; maybe grief made her crazy. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”<br/>
<br/>
We chat for a few more minutes, and I try not to feel awkward. I have no reason to be jealous or resentful of Sharon. Yes, she dated (and in conjunction, kissed) Steve, but that was one time (I think)! It’s in the past, and anyway, I trust that Steve means it when he says they’re just friends, so I shouldn’t be so worried. He chose me, and I chose him. No issues. Plus, she’s actually pretty nice. We finally excuse ourselves, and Steve continuously apologizes for the awkward experience, and though I try, he won’t let me tell him it’s okay.<br/>
<br/>
We’re quickly stopped by four people waving to us from the next table. “Hey,” Daisy says nonchalantly, leaning back in her chair and waving as she smirks at us.<br/>
<br/>
Jemma jumps up from the table and shamelessly squeezes me in a hug. “Congratulations!” she squeals.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes, congrats,” Fitz says, standing and pulling his wife closer to him with a huge goofy smile. Melinda gets out of her seat too, and we talk to them for a few minutes before she and Daisy excuse themselves to get more drinks. Daisy leaves with a very conspicuous wink.<br/>
<br/>
A few minutes later, Natasha sidles over with a grin. “How does it feel being married to Captain America?” she teases in a low voice.<br/>
<br/>
I shrug. “Alright, I guess.” Steve looks affronted, and I snicker at him. “But being married to Steve Rogers...that’s the best thing in the world.” I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly. He pecks a quick kiss on my lips in response. Nat, meanwhile, is still quiet. “What were you expecting, Natasha?”<br/>
<br/>
“Wow,” she says sarcastically. “You are definitely head over heels.” She glances at Steve. “I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time, Steve.”<br/>
<br/>
“I think I’ve got a pretty good reason to be,” he answers, keeping one arm around my waist to pull me toward him.<br/>
<br/>
My parents waltz over, looking younger and happier than I’ve ever seen them. “I’ll see you later,” Natasha says, excusing herself.<br/>
<br/>
“Meg!” my mom squeals. Steve lets go of me so my mother can hug me, but she pulls him right in. She looks into his face, more than almost a foot above her own, and says sternly, “You’re a part of this family now, young man. Whether you like it or not.”<br/>
<br/>
Steve laughs as tears well in his eyes. My mom has no idea how much that means to him. “Thank you,” he chuckles, embracing the two of us tighter.<br/>
<br/>
My mom finally relents, and my father steps in, hugging both of us individually. “Take care of my girl,” he says to Steve with a smile.<br/>
<br/>
“Will do, sir,” my husband says, his smiling eyes flicking over to me.<br/>
<br/>
“You don’t have to call me ‘sir’, Steve. I’m not trying to be the scary father-in-law.”<br/>
<br/>
“Leave him alone, Dad,” I say.<br/>
<br/>
He turns and hugs me tightly again. “Princess, I can’t believe you’re married,” he whispers to me. “When did you grow up?”<br/>
<br/>
“To be honest, I don’t know,” I giggle.<br/>
<br/>
“Well, you found a good one.” He kisses the top of my head and takes my mom’s hand, following her back to the dance floor.<br/>
<br/>
“Steve, are you okay?” I ask him, noting his teary eyes.<br/>
<br/>
“Meg, I love your family almost as much as I love you,” he chokes out. “For the first time in a long time, I truly belong somewhere.”<br/>
<br/>
“Of course you belong somewhere,” I say, putting my arms around his neck. “You belong with me. I won’t start singing Taylor Swift, but it’s true. We’ve always been ‘home’ for each other.”<br/>
<br/>
He kisses me firmly, and I have to fight the smile pulling on my lips. “You’re pretty smart, you know,” he jokes.<br/>
<br/>
“I know.” I grin coyly. “Shall we dance?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Two Oh-So-Scary Best Friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few more people stop us on our way to the dance floor: my grandmother intercepts us to give us alternating compliments and insults, Leo’s girlfriend Camilla envelops me in a huge hug, and Scott nearly trips the two of us as we walk past (rather conspicuously, I might add).<br/>
<br/>
Nevertheless, soon we’re on the dance floor again, surrounded by our friends. The kids sort of take over the middle, and everyone else circles around them, dancing or watching. During one song, I catch Bucky and Charlie dancing together; whether it was voluntary or caused by a dance battle challenge between the two pesky tricksters, I do not know.<br/>
<br/>
The dance ends, and Bucky and Charlie drift closer to Steve and me. “Can I borrow the bride for just a moment, Steven?” Charlie asks.<br/>
<br/>
“Sure.” He smiles at me and lets go of my hands, and I follow Charlie off the edge of the dance floor.<br/>
<br/>
“So.” Charlie puts her hands on her hips and gives me a weird look. “You got your Prince Charming, your knight in shining armor--er, soldier in patriotic uniform--whatever! Point is, you found your happily ever after with pretty boy over there. How does it feel to reach your childhood dream, kid?” She grins at me.<br/>
<br/>
“‘Kid’? I’m five months younger than you and suddenly I’m ‘kid’, Charlotte?”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s not my na--”<br/>
<br/>
“Charlene. Charlize. Charles. Charleston. Charlemagne. Charcoal. Cheesecake…” I list childishly.<br/>
<br/>
“Megalodon,” she interrupts.<br/>
<br/>
“What?” I look at her in utter confusion, my rhythm interrupted.<br/>
<br/>
Charlie just raises her eyebrows victoriously. “You didn’t answer my question. Has it been everything you dreamed?”<br/>
<br/>
I sigh contentedly. “Yes! Why wouldn’t it be? I’m in love and everybody knows it, and now we’re finally together forever, and it’s been a dream come true--”<br/>
<br/>
“Okay, good. I don’t have to include that whole section on making you happy in my lecture. Now let’s go.”<br/>
<br/>
“Wait! Lect--”<br/>
<br/>
I can’t get the word out because Charlie starts dragging me by my wrist back to Bucky and Steve. Steve and I pick up where we left off and start dancing happily again.<br/>
<br/>
The song ends, and another slow one starts up. “May I cut in?” Bucky asks Steve, who quickly brushes his lips across mine and releases me from the envelopment of his arms, barely concealing his annoyance. Charlie asks him if he wants to dance, and they walk away to a more open space. That’s just asking for trouble. Maybe she’s being a protective friend and giving him “that speech”....<br/>
<br/>
“Did you need something?” I tease Bucky as we dance. “Or are you just trying to test if I have separation anxiety?”<br/>
<br/>
He chuckles. “You’re practically glowing with happiness. Are you having a good time, Mrs. Rogers?”<br/>
<br/>
I laugh. “That’s going to take some getting used to,” I whisper, unable to hide my smile. “This has been the best night of my life,” I answer sincerely. “It’s more than I ever could have dreamt of.”<br/>
<br/>
“Good.” He’s staring at Steve and Charlie across the dance floor. “I’m glad you and my best friend are going to be happy together. You deserve that.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks, Bucky,” I say, tears brimming in my eyes and threatening to spill over as I hug him again.<br/>
<br/>
“Calm down, princess. It’s no problem,” he whispers, patting my back. “This is technically the part where I’m supposed to lecture you about not hurting Steve, but 1) you would never do that because you’re so deeply and desperately in love with him, 2) he could handle you himself if you did, and 3) he is just as madly in love with you, so...yeah.”<br/>
<br/>
“Is that supposed to intimidate me?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows at him.<br/>
<br/>
“Just…be nice to him. I know you never knew him before the giant muscles and superhero disguise, but sometimes I still see him as the tiny kid from Brooklyn that I felt compelled to protect. I guess I’m passing that torch to you now. Okay, rant over. Now I should probably reunite you with your husband so you can go throw things at your guests, smash cake in each other’s faces, and provide the crowd with dessert.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Cake and Confessions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I snort at Bucky’s blasé statement as he leads me back to Steve and Charlie, who seem to be having their own strange conversation. “Finally! You came back!” Steve exclaims. “Meg, Charlie is kind of insane.”<br/>
<br/>
“I know. That’s one of her oddly endearing qualities,” I reply with a smirk. “Now, Steve, I believe we have some things to toss and a cake to cut.” I eagerly take his hand and half-drag him across the dance floor to the stage. I announce to the guests that it’s time for the bouquet toss, and the crowd moves to the edges of the dance floor as the single ladies rush to the center. I turn around and hold my patriotic roses over my head, tossing the bouquet backwards over my head. Someone squeals, and another voice cries out a loud “Yes!” as she catches it. I spin on my heel and observe that Charlie is now holding the flowers. This causes me to laugh in a very loud and unladylike fashion.<br/>
<br/>
“What?” she demands in confusion.<br/>
<br/>
“Charlie, you do know that means you’re the next girl here to get married, right?” I say incredulously.<br/>
<br/>
“What? I thought it was just a catching competition!” she exclaims in disbelief.<br/>
<br/>
“You’ve never been to a wedding before, have you?”<br/>
<br/>
Steve and I are both still laughing at her confusion as I sit down in the chair on the stage. Steve kneels and lifts my dress just enough to expose the garter on my leg. He pulls it off and slingshots it backwards. We both look up and take in Bucky standing with his robotic arm raised, almost involuntarily it seems, with the small white loop clutched in his fist. His wide-eyed expression gives evidence to my theory that it was unintentional. The audience claps, and Steve helps me off the stage. We meet our best friends in the middle of the dance floor.<br/>
<br/>
“Wow, guys, this is a weird way to tell us how you feel about each other,” Steve jokes.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, I had no idea. Are you trying to upstage us?” I add.<br/>
<br/>
“Aw, heck no,” Charlie says, raising her eyebrows and staring at Bucky. “Who do you think I am? I’m not that cutesy, kissy type.” Now she looks at us. “No offense to you guys. You’re adorable.”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t know, I’m feeling this,” Bucky dramatizes, taking Charlie’s hand in an exaggerated motion. “You were right, Steve. I did fall right in with your girl’s friend.” They both burst out laughing at their mockery of us. I punch Charlie’s arm to shut her up.<br/>
<br/>
“Okay, fine,” I concede. “Nothing going on there. Now Steve,” I say, putting my other hand back around our intertwined ones and adding a flirtatious note to my voice, “I believe we have a cake to cut.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes, I think you’re right,” he agrees, eyeballing the other two to discourage them. We hurry off to the cake table, where Peter and Shuri have the mic, ready to direct us (I’m not sure why we need that, but I guess they can get people’s attention, and it makes them happy, so I won’t question it or their weird jokes). They draw the crowd’s attention, and we pick up the single knife together (in a very awkward fashion, so of course we’re laughing the whole way through it) and start slicing into our enormous cake. It’s, like, nine layers. On top, there’s even a cute tiny Meg and Steve kissing in uniform, carved in perfect minute detail. The top layer is removed, so we take the piece we’ve cut, set it on a plate, and tear it approximately in half. I return Steve’s thumbs up to show him I’m ready, and a hilarious disaster ensues. I try to feed my half of the cake into Steve’s mouth, but I miss terribly, smearing it all over his nose. He laughs and catches a small stray chunk of wedding cake in his mouth.<br/>
<br/>
I don’t fare much better. He clumsily covers my nose with cake too, but fortunately, none gets on either of our clothes. We keep giggling at each other like children, and then we return to our task of dividing up the cake.<br/>
<br/>
All of a sudden, I feel someone moving behind me. Instinctively, Steve and I both wheel on the intruder. Bad idea. It turns out to be Charlie, who is armed with two cupcakes, each bearing a mountain of icing. She slams one into Steve’s face, takes one look at my glare, and runs off cackling. Before she can escape too far, though, I catch up to her, snatch the cupcake meant for my face out of her hand, and smush it against her face.<br/>
<br/>
“Come on,” Steve mutters as I walk back, brushing my hands off.<br/>
<br/>
“Steve,” I say, turning to look at him, “unfortunately, you have to accept that. She’s kinda obnoxious sometimes, but if she messes with you like that, it means she likes you. Heaven knows why.” I stand on my toes and kiss his forehead. “Get used to it.” I laugh as I lick a bit of frosting off my bright red lips. “Mm.”<br/>
<br/>
“Fine.” He chuckles. “You know, you look pretty cute covered in cake.”<br/>
<br/>
“I could say the same about you.”<br/>
<br/> 
We cut enough of the cake to get the guests started and let Shuri and Peter take over passing it out and cutting more if necessary. We’re still covered in frosting and crumbs, so we walk into the palace to clean ourselves up. Nobody notices that we each steal two slices of cake off the table. Once we’ve washed the sticky messes off our faces, we find a spot inside, hidden from our guests’ view, to eat our dessert and enjoy a few quiet moments, just savoring our togetherness.<br/>
<br/>
“I want to make a private toast to my bride,” Steve says, shutting the door to the...meeting room we wandered into. “People say you can’t love someone else until you love yourself. Those people are lying. It was only through loving you, Meg, that I came to love and accept myself. You’ve been the moon and stars in the dark sky for me, the reason I want to get up in the morning. I couldn’t ask for a better person to spend my life with. Thank you for being...well, you.”<br/>
<br/>
I nearly drop my cake as the tears threaten to spill out of my eyes. “Steve,” I whisper, my voice breaking as several tears run down my face and splatter onto the carpet. I set the plates down and wrap my arms around his neck like a vise, standing on my toes and pulling him close to me. The rest of my words die in my throat, inadequate to tell him how much I love him or how I felt the exact same way.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t cry,” he says softly as he hugs me back.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met,” I blubber, “and I don’t know what my life would be like without you in it.” I let him go and take his hands in mine. “And you took the words right out of my mouth, mon amour [my love].”<br/>
<br/>
“You’re all my heart has ever wanted,” he whispers into my hair. He reaches into his jacket. “And I, uh… I have something for you.” He pulls out a thick sheaf of envelopes. I stare at them in befuddlement, awaiting his explanation. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been writing letters to my future wife in hopes that one day, I could give them to her and show her the progression of my love for her. It was only about a year ago when your name started appearing on them. It would’ve been sooner, but I didn’t want to assume that we were on the same page before actually asking you.” I gasp. “And I want you to have them. They say some things I hope I can one day articulate out loud, but for now that’ll have to do.”<br/>
<br/>
“Are you serious? This is the sweetest thing ever!” I cry, hugging him. “Oh no, I’m gonna cry even more now.”<br/>
<br/>
“What can I say? You’ve become my muse. You’re my favorite art subject.”<br/>
<br/>
“Pfft. I’ll believe it when I see it.”<br/>
<br/>
“Then I’ll show you when we go home.” He smiles at me and twirls me with one hand. “Now that that’s out of the way, what do you say we do now?”<br/>
<br/>
I smile coyly and lift a fork off the table. “Let them eat cake.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Finale (or, Everything Falls Apart on Us)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Just as we come back through the doors, Maria hurries over. “I think it’s time for the moonlight photoshoot,” she says with a grin. “And yes, I got lots of pictures of you during the ceremony and dancing and cutting the cake and everything. Don’t panic.” She can read minds, I think to myself. “Now let’s go!”<br/>
<br/>
Maria leads Steve and me out of the garden and around the palace grounds to a large clearing beside a little hill. She starts posing us in various ways--holding hands; imitating our kiss from the ceremony; dancing, silhouetted by the moon; Steve holding me bridal-style (hm, fitting); drawing in the air with sparklers; and more.<br/>
<br/>
“Alright, I think we’re finished,” Maria states, clicking the camera off. “You two better go change so you can make it to your flight in time.”<br/>
<br/>
Steve nods and grabs my hand again, and the two of us rush excitedly back to the party.<br/>
<br/>
“One more dance?” he asks me as we slow beside the dance floor.<br/>
<br/>
I smile up at him. “Of course.”<br/>
<br/>
He pulls me onto the dance floor, where we start to slowly move to the music. It’s not hard to do anymore, so we don’t need to focus. Everyone else looks at us and politely clears the floor for our last dance. I try to ignore the sight of the other Avengers huddled close together in deep conversation and just enjoy the moment. Steve pulls me close and we kiss again, a long, tender, and sweet kiss, as fireworks explode across the sky and I forget the world for a moment.<br/>
<br/>
Just as the song ends, Tony comes over to us, looking a bit nervous. “What’s up?” Steve asks him as we walk away from the crowd toward the door back into the palace.<br/>
<br/>
“Bad news, guys. Fury told us there’s been a breach or a threat of some kind back in New York. Something’s trying to attack the city, and we have to go after it.” He gives us a sympathetic, tortured look of dismay.<br/>
<br/>
“Are you serious?” I hiss in a mixture of disappointment and frustration. “This was not on the agenda for tonight!”<br/>
<br/>
Despite the suddenly serious atmosphere, Tony can’t help but smirk. “And what exactly was, Meg?”<br/>
<br/>
“Shut up, Stark, unless you want to see me turn into Bridezilla for real. Now is not the time,” I threaten through gritted teeth. Steve squeezes my hand once to keep me grounded. I sigh as the flash of anger passes, and I take one steadying deep breath. “Distract the crowd. We’ll be right back.”<br/>
<br/>
Tony turns away in a businesslike manner, but I know his pestering is far from over. I guess he does know where to draw the line. Besides, this isn’t his fault.<br/>
<br/>
Minds on the impending situation, Steve and I go back into the guest rooms we’ve been staying in. Once I’m alone in the leftover mess of this morning’s pampering, I swiftly change out of the gorgeous princess gown and into a simpler red dress. Still in my towering heels, I scurry back out to the hallway. I pass Steve’s door just as he emerges in his traveling clothes, which are now going to be repurposed for battle. Great, why didn’t I think of this earlier and pack more versatile shoes, or, I don’t know, my suit? Oh, right, because I wasn’t planning on fighting anybody today. Just once, couldn’t the bad guys hold off for a little while?<br/>
<br/>
Steve throws on his signature leather jacket as he pulls his door shut, smiling at me. “You look really nice in red,” he says, winking with the suggestive hint and effectively distracting me from my rekindled anger and frustration at our anonymous villains. I giggle and grab hold of his hand.<br/>
<br/>
The crowd is lining up for us on the lawn as we come back out of the palace. They throw flowers and engulf us in hugs as we walk down the aisle they’ve created for us. The royal family wishes us well as we pass, brushing off our rushed apologies for leaving such a mess behind. Shuri gives me a quick eager hug before I move on. “Another broken white boy successfully fixed in Wakanda,” she teases Steve as she urges us on.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t have too much fun,” Charlie teases.<br/>
<br/>
I smirk sarcastically at her as I pass. “Oh, I most definitely will.” Even if the honeymoon plans are screwed.<br/>
<br/>
“Meg?” my dad asks from the end of the line. I pause and take a step back. “We love you. Don’t forget to come visit once in a while.”<br/>
<br/>
“Bye, little sis,” Leo says with a knowing evil smile. “Enjoy yourself.” Mom smacks his elbow, but he winks at me once more before backing down. I have to try very hard not to punch him in the face for that implication.<br/>
<br/>
“Have fun, honey, and be safe. We’ll see you soon. Bon voyage [have a good trip]!” my mom adds. She kisses first my cheek, then Steve’s, and she shoos us away with a laugh. We turn and wave once more to the adoring crowd, and then we climb into the waiting car.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Get In Loser, We're Going to Catch a Criminal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The car drives off, and Steve picks up a walkie-talkie out of the cupholder while I busy myself turning my shoes into sneakers (for the time being; I am not permanently sacrificing my shoes).<br/>
<br/>
“Rogers? Do you copy?” Tony’s voice crackles through the device.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes, we copy,” Steve answers. Despite the gravity of the situation we’re in, he grins at me. It’s not just me that’s going to have to get used to the fact that I’m a Rogers now.<br/>
<br/>
“We’re on our way. We’re getting all of our weapons, so we’ll meet you there,” Tony adds.<br/>
<br/>
I give Steve an asking look, and he surrenders the walkie-talkie to me. “Where exactly is ‘there’?” I demand.<br/>
<br/>
“Not sure yet. I’m tracking them now.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ugh,” I groan. “Tony…”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, uh, immediately, ‘there’ is the airport. The private jet is waiting for us there.”<br/>
<br/>
“Great…” I slump back in the seat and drop the walkie-talkie dejectedly onto the seat. Steve scoots over and sort of picks me up, hugging me close to him.<br/>
<br/>
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.<br/>
<br/>
“This is not how this night was supposed to go,” I say, crossing my arms and making an exaggerated pouty face. “And now our whole trip is screwed because they need us.”<br/>
<br/>
Steve laughs. “At least it’s now, and not in the middle of our vows or something. We’ll make it work.” He pulls me closer to him and delicately kisses my lips.<br/>
<br/>
The walkie-talkie crackles again. “And don’t do anything. The airport isn’t that far away, and we can’t afford any distractions.”<br/>
<br/>
“Tony…” Steve warns menacingly, gritting his teeth. He snatches the walkie-talkie off the seat forcefully, and I watch the plastic buckle a tiny bit from his raw strength.<br/>
<br/>
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I know this is frustrating for the two of you. We really wanted you to go enjoy yourselves and feel normal for once.” He sighs, and the sound comes through as a disjointed crackle. “We’ll try to make the best of it for you, though.”<br/>
<br/>
The walkie-talkie goes silent, and Steve scoots closer, searching my face. My mind is running a mile a minute as I try to figure out what’s happening.<br/>
<br/>
“Wait, guys, why do we even need to go to the airport? Just get Stephen to make a portal so we can get in and out fast.”<br/>
<br/>
The radio sits dead for a moment in my hand while they (probably) have a debate on the other end. “Okay, stop the car, and we’ll be there in just a second.”<br/>
<br/>
Steve taps the glass separating us from the chauffeur. “Sir, please stop the car. We don’t actually need to go all the way to the airport. Someone else is coming.”<br/>
<br/>
The driver nods and smoothly brakes on the side of the road, no questions asked, just as an orange sparkler line traces a circle in midair. The Avengers spill out in disarray, stumbling across the pavement. We open the doors and circle the back of the car to meet them.<br/>
<br/>
Tony gives us an appraising look. “No,” Steve says wearily. “You know, that’s really not your business.”<br/>
<br/>
“I was just making sure you’re doing okay, not suggesting anything,” he says innocently.<br/>
<br/>
“We’ll be better once all of this is over with,” I growl.<br/>
<br/>
Tony nods and walks off as weapons and earpieces are quickly distributed. “Okay team, let’s go.” Doctor Strange creates another portal, and we step inside to our fight.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
We emerge onto the side of a rushing street, packed with cars and people. Three hooligans on legitimate hoverboards zoom past us, and something in Bruce’s pocket beeps.<br/>
<br/>
“Follow those flying guys!” he cries, Hulking out as he runs after them.<br/>
<br/>
I take off at a sprint after him, the others on my heels. The three flying men, who’ve apparently been causing some sort of disturbance, are clever enough to split up at the intersection. The Hulk turns left and barrels through traffic to catch up. I race straight through in pursuit of the second.<br/>
<br/>
Wanda, Sam, Tony, and T’challa surround me as we chase down the threat. We keep running after him, but he’s always just out of reach. We round a tight corner after him, only to discover an empty, dead-ended alley.<br/>
<br/>
“What?” I splutter in shock, turning on the spot in search of our target. “He can’t just be...gone!”<br/>
<br/>
“Uh, guys?” Bucky says uncertainly over the comm. “This guy just vanished in thin air and left us at a dead end.”<br/>
<br/>
“Same here,” Tony says.<br/>
<br/>
“Us too,” Natasha ascertains. “What happened?”<br/>
<br/>
“We don’t know,” Sam answers. “Search the area for any clues, and then we’ll head back to the tower.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. This is Not What a Honeymoon is Supposed to Look Like</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clint deals out the third game’s hands, and everyone reaches forward from the crowded couches to pick up his or her cards from the table. I snort at the words typed in black font on the white cards in my hand, earning several strange looks from my teammates.<br/>
<br/>
It’s becoming difficult to focus on the game. I was up early this morning, and it’s late, so I’m tired, but that’s only the minor issue. I also had a little more champagne, but just a little bit. And a milkshake. I needed a milkshake. I promise, I’m not drunk. No, the biggest distraction is Steve. He lent me his jacket when I got cold, so my entire body is enveloped in warm leather that smells faintly like his cologne. As I try to read the card in the middle and the ones in my hand, he plays with my hair. He pushes it to one side and lightly kisses the upper end of my long, jagged scar, sending a tingling sensation down my spine. I resist the urge to blissfully close my eyes, and I toss my card onto the table with a hurried motion. Natasha looks over all the cards, reads her choice (“genetically engineered super soldiers”, hm) out loud, causing everyone to stare very un-subtly at us, and surprisingly hands me the black card.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re not being very discreet, guys,” she teases. I read the card to myself and almost choke. “And I doubt you even know yet.” My face turns a brilliant shade of red.<br/>
<br/>
“Anyone ever notice how the two of them are supposed to be our most innocent, but they also create the most tension?” Carol interjects. She raises an eyebrow at me, challenging me to disagree.<br/>
<br/>
I ignore my friends and roll around on the couch cushions. “Are you even playing?” I say to Steve.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, I’m just throwing random cards in,” he answers, going back to doodling on my exposed shoulder where his jacket slipped off with his fingertip. I have to remind myself to focus. My eyes go crossed when he leans down and starts deliberately kissing my collarbone, my neck, my jaw, my cheek, my ear, and back down again. We have an audience, I think in distress. I catch Wanda snickering at my thoughts as she reads my mind, but I don’t react. They’ll never shut up about this.<br/>
<br/>
“Okay, clearly no one’s focusing,” Sam chides, eyeing us across the table and probably thinking Can you do that somewhere else? toward us. “Let’s call it a night.”<br/>
<br/>
“Should we be expecting an upswing in the eagle population, Steve?” Tony asks, raising his eyebrows. I have to resist the urge to facepalm at his meme reference (probably the latest shown to him by Peter), but it becomes that much harder when Bucky mutters something that sounds like it contains the words fondue, bigger shield, and human population.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
I pull Steve up the final flight of stairs, and the two of us emerge onto the roof. Once he’s out the door, Steve takes the lead and brings me to the railing. I lean against it and observe the beautiful night sky.<br/>
<br/>
“Look at the stars,” I say, pointing to a cluster of the twinkling lights. “They’re so beautiful.”<br/>
<br/>
“Not as beautiful as you, though,” Steve replies smoothly. I giggle and look down as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I know it’s not exactly how we thought tonight would go, but it’s still been amazing. I can say with certainty that today was the greatest day of my life.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ditto. It’s been an adventure, and for the most part,” I snicker, “c'était absolument parfait [it was absolutely perfect]. Please don’t let me forget a second of it.” I blow another loose strand of hair out of my face in exasperation. “But you and your pick-up lines. I think we’re past the point of needing those, right? We both said ‘I do.’” I turn my body away from the rail and face him.<br/>
<br/>
“And that was the best moment of my life.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Megan Rogers.”<br/>
<br/>
“Steven Rogers,” I reply flirtatiously.<br/>
<br/>
“I love you more than you could ever know. I’m so in love with you, it’s insane.”<br/>
<br/>
“And I love you just as much, mon amour [my love]. I’m the luckiest person in the world.” I stretch onto my toes to kiss his cheek.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m not so sure about that.” He winks and looks away for a second. “Hey, can I tell you something?”<br/>
<br/>
I furrow my brow. “Sure…?”<br/>
<br/>
“You remember the day I asked you on our first date, right?”<br/>
<br/>
I grin. “Yeah…”<br/>
<br/>
“Well, I, um… I faked my inability to lift the axe. It was kind of a test to make sure you wouldn’t flake when you found out I wasn’t perfect. And I also didn’t want to hurt Thor’s feelings. But then you threw Mjolnir to me when Charlie’s team arrived, so I know he gets it now.”<br/>
<br/>
I snort. “I know you’re not perfect, Steve, because you’re human, no matter what crazy scientific concoction is running through your veins. And I still love you.” I smile at him, but my face contorts in thought a moment later. “But when I tried to help you lift it….”<br/>
<br/>
“All me. I pulled it sideways to try and lead you.” He smiles down at me. “No hard feelings?” I shake my head, a tiny smile lifting the corner of my lips. “Then can I ask you a question too?”<br/>
<br/>
I look at him curiously. “Of course, Steve. Anything.”<br/>
<br/>
“With your powers…did you ever turn into me?”<br/>
<br/>
I blink to awaken myself from my shocked state. “Only once--when I ran away…that night, I wished you were there with me, and then I looked in my rearview mirror and saw you instead of me, and I just…. It wasn’t good for my emotions in those ten seconds.”<br/>
<br/>
A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “But never again?”<br/>
<br/>
“I never got to you during my bet with Charlie about impersonating everyone else. I was kind of putting it off until last.” He grimaces at the memory, and I shake my head, waving one hand absently in his direction. “Maybe because I knew I could never do better than the real thing.”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s reassuring,” he laughs.<br/>
<br/>
“Why? Were you worried about something?” I ask innocently, trying not to smile at the thinly concealed implication.<br/>
<br/>
“No, just curious.” He pauses in thought. He takes one slow step closer, and before I know it, his arms are around my waist, pulling me close to him, and my hands find their way to his face as we kiss intently.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m not a cheater,” I mumble as his lips move smoothly across mine. He smirks and pulls me closer.<br/>
<br/>
A moment later, the door to the roof softly squeaks open. Steve and I stop kissing to see who it is.<br/>
<br/>
“You get married, and suddenly you think you can kiss anytime, anywhere,” Tony snarks from the doorway. He flicks the stair light on for us. “Seriously. You have a room, so I can’t really tell you to get one. It’s late. Go to bed.”<br/>
<br/>
Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “Who asked you, Tony?” he asks in mock anger. He’s barely suppressing his urge to laugh. I, on the other hand, don’t hide it as well.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m just saying, it’s already a pretty star-spangled night out here. Meg can discover the secrets of patriotism elsewhere.” Tony snickers and reaches for the doorknob. “And I think all this canoodling you’re doing is just stalling. Good night, kids.”<br/>
<br/>
Steve swiftly kisses my lips before the door closes just to spite Tony. He grins mischievously at me. “What now?” He knows there’s no point in asking.<br/>
<br/>
“You’ve made it quite clear what you want.” I cross my arms and lean my hip against the railing, confident that I hold his attention. "I'm not disagreeing."<br/>
<br/>
“Let’s go, then.” He lifts one eyebrow playfully, reaching for my hand.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. It Shouldn't Be a Nightmare Keeping Me Awake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Sitting up in a tangle of sheets, it takes me several seconds to realize that the nightmare is over. My heart is still beating too fast, and my body is covered in sweat. Such a stark contrast to our joy just hours earlier.<br/>
<br/>
Steve jolts awake at my side. “Meg, what’s wrong?” he asks worriedly. I climb out of bed and walk to the floor-length window, staring blankly out at the beautiful dark cityscape below. I hear Steve’s feet hit the floor, and a moment later, he’s next to me, gazing through the glass. He wraps his arms around me, resting his head against the top of mine, and I have to try very hard not to cry at the thought of just how much this man loves me.<br/>
<br/>
“It was just a nightmare,” I say, fighting to control my shaking limbs. I turn my head and look into his eyes, which reflect the starlight so beautifully, it’s unbelievable.<br/>
<br/>
“What was it?” he replies in concern, studying my face.<br/>
<br/>
“It was--” I stop to hiccup and steady myself. “We were chasing those things from tonight again, but instead of leading us to dead ends where they disappeared, they took us to the place where we fought Roger before they vanished. Then it was kind of that whole deal where he wanted to punish me again, but this time, when he had me on the ground, he somehow figured out how important you were to me, so he gave me an ultimatum: I could sacrifice my life and he would let you live, or I would have to watch you die in order to stay alive. I couldn’t let him kill you, so I told him to kill me, and he just grinned maliciously. He pulled you from the crowd, slammed you to the ground, and stabbed you, then he came back to me and started to tear me apart, and then everyone else was gone, and we were alone, and I was watching the life drain out of your eyes, but I was also dying, and--” At that point, I can’t talk anymore. I shake my head and fight the tears brimming in the corners of my eyes.<br/>
<br/>
“Honey.” Steve cradles me against his bare chest and soothingly strokes the pale raised scars criss-crossing my back, which ache faintly from the memory of the pain. “It’s okay, I’m here, and you’re safe now. It was just a dream.” His voice breaks, and his hands slide down to my waist and draw me closer to him. His thumb traces soothing circles over the small spear-tip scar on my hip. I close my eyes, inhale his scent, and try to block the terrifying thoughts in my head. A couple of tears slide down my cheeks, but I don’t bother to brush them away.<br/>
<br/>
“I’ll go make you some tea so you can fall back asleep,” he says, lifting one arm off my back.<br/>
<br/>
“No, stay….” I beg sleepily.<br/>
<br/>
“Okay.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Do you-- Do you want me to play a song for you on my guitar?” he asks a moment later.<br/>
<br/>
“That would be wonderful,” I answer. “I couldn’t sleep right now anyway.” I walk back to my side of the bed and sit down, and Steve crosses the room, turns on a lamp, and walks to the closet. “I didn’t even know you played,” I say, admiring the guitar he carries out.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m full of surprises.” He winks as he sits back down and pulls the guitar into his lap. “I can sing too, I guess.” He laughs. “Any requests?”<br/>
<br/>
I scoot closer to him. “Your favorite.”<br/>
<br/>
“Okay, here goes.” He inhales and smiles at me. “I’ve never played this for anyone before, but now seems like a fitting occasion. This one’s about you.”<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
He finishes his song, sets his guitar on the floor, and cups my face gently in his hands, kissing me softly, cautiously. “Better, doll?”<br/>
<br/>
I squeeze my eyes shut and giggle. “Yeah.”<br/>
<br/>
“Wha-- Oh, I said doll. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize--” He buries his face in his palm as it dawns on him. “And I was doing so well at staying with the times. I guess you can take the man out of the ‘40s, but you can’t take the ‘40s out of the man,” he laughs.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s okay, Steve. I think it’s sweet. And it means you trust me enough to let me see that side of you.”<br/>
<br/>
“I think we both know by now that I’d trust you with anything, my past or otherwise,” he says with a coy grin. “You know all my secrets.” We cuddle silently for a moment, savoring each other’s presence. “I’ll be quiet now, so you can sleep.”<br/>
<br/>
“You don’t need to be quiet,” I disagree. “I’ll never get tired of hearing your voice.”<br/>
<br/>
“And you said I had cheesy lines,” he laughs, pulling me closer to him. We lapse into contented silence again. I’m not sure whether or not I can fall asleep now.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m sorry,” I squeak a few minutes later.<br/>
<br/>
“For what?”<br/>
<br/>
“For keeping you up all night.”<br/>
<br/>
Steve snorts. “Please. You’re joking, right?” He raises one eyebrow and nods at whatever face I make. “Uh-huh. I think you know that you could have anyway.” I grin wryly. “Besides, if I had slept more, I would have dreamt of you, so this is better.”<br/>
<br/>
“I wish I could say the same,” I sigh.<br/>
<br/>
He tightly locks his arms around me. “It’s okay. It was just a dream, and I’m here now.” I nod. “Do you think you can fall asleep now?”<br/>
<br/>
“I could, but I don’t know if I want to,” I answer with a wink. “I’d prefer to spend time with the real you, not any weird dream version.”<br/>
<br/>
His hands against my back press me closer to him. “Well, in that case…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. A Series of Chaotic Events</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You two. My office. Right now.”<br/>
<br/>
We’re all of five steps out the door when Tony makes his demand. Steve and I freeze and look at each other in bewilderment. What did we do to invoke Tony’s wrath? Get up too late for a meeting? Make too much noise? Is this about the game last night?<br/>
<br/>
“Okay, the end of this hallway works fine too,” he says, raising an eyebrow at my choice of attire: my husband’s t-shirt and no pants. I fold my arms across my chest and glare at him.<br/>
<br/>
“Did we do something wrong?” I ask snarkily, lifting my eyebrows. I don’t like this at all. Steve puts his arm around me and gives Tony a confused look.<br/>
<br/>
“You disturbed the peace of this whole tower with whatever you were up to last night.” My eyes widen, and my face heats up in an instant. “Kidding! The walls are soundproof, Meg.”<br/>
<br/>
“Tony, get on with it,” Steve warns, his face almost as pink as mine.<br/>
<br/>
“Okay, look, I just wanted to make a suggestion to you. That’s all,” Tony answers. He lifts his hands in surrender, as if to retract all his judgments and teasing. “Other than that you fix your hair and try to...cover up. You look pretty banged up, if you know what I mean.”<br/>
<br/>
I roll my eyes and look away from him. “Okay, give us your suggestion,” Steve replies, running his free hand through his already-messy hair. Always the civil one, counterbalancing my volatile emotions.<br/>
<br/>
“I thought you might want to get your own place, at least for a little while,” he suggests tentatively. “I’m not trying to kick you out, not at all. I mean, the whole team, we’ve tried to be understanding. You just got married, your honeymoon plans were wrecked, and I just thought it would be better for everyone if--”<br/>
<br/>
“No, no, that’s not a bad idea. We were supposed to be on our own for two weeks anyway,” I answer, looking from Tony to my husband. “What do you think, Steve?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, I think it’s worth a shot,” he agrees. “Stark gets rid of us for a while, too, so I guess it’s a win-win.” He winks coyly at me as Tony opens his mouth to protest, unable to get a word in with all our laughter.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
Just a few minutes later, we can be found poring over apartment listings on my laptop.<br/>
<br/>
“Ooo, look at that!” I point at one of the pictures on the computer screen, leaning over my husband’s shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
“I like it,” Steve agrees. “The view is incredible.”<br/>
<br/>
“And the price is reasonable, too.”<br/>
<br/>
“You want to check it out?”<br/>
<br/>
“Let’s look at the building rules before we go, just so we don’t waste our time.” I click another link on the website. My eyes quickly scan over the list of rules.<br/>
<br/>
“This place allows pets,” Steve says, smiling at me. “You know, if we eventually--”<br/>
<br/>
“Do you wanna get a dog?!” I exclaim.<br/>
<br/>
“The day after our wedding?” His eyes light up as he evidently forgets the “eventually” part of his unfinished sentence. “Yes.” He stands up from the desk chair. “We’re running a couple errands. Be back soon,” he shouts to the building at large, even though no one’s in the room. Someone probably heard. Oh well.<br/>
<br/>
“Where are we going to get a dog?” I ask him as we breeze through the doors. I hadn’t really thought of that until now.<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t know yet. Wait….”<br/>
<br/>
“What?”<br/>
<br/>
“I just remembered something. When they were testing the serum, before they gave it to me, they gave it to a dog.” He sees the look on my face. “There weren’t really any animal testing laws then, but she took it very well. Of course, I dunno if that was the first dog test….” He shakes his head to clear the dismal thought away. “Anyway, the serum worked, so they didn’t need to keep messing with tests. They wanted to get rid of the dog since they had no further use for her, but they couldn’t, so they froze her.” He chuckles dryly. “I guess they predicted me, huh? I’ll bet she’s still at a SHIELD base.”<br/>
<br/>
I whip out my phone. “I guess it’s time to ask Fury another favor.”<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
We come back to the tower with more than we planned for. We toured the apartment, signed the lease, and paid to rent it at the beginning of next month (not even a full week away), but on our way to get Nova (the dog), we got a little sidetracked.<br/>
<br/>
I was driving, and Steve saw a tattoo parlor in a strip mall we passed. I wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but it didn’t look sketchy, so we went in to get tattoos. That’s what every couple does when they haven’t even been married for twenty-four hours yet, right?<br/>
<br/>
I now have a tiny comic-style rendering of Steve’s shield on the inside of my right wrist. It’s placed just right so that when we hold hands, it touches the four-pointed purple star (the color of my magic) on Steve’s left wrist.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey, we’re back,” I call as I open the door. Steve slips his hand that isn’t holding the excited dog’s leash into one of mine as we walk into the weirdly quiet tower.<br/>
<br/>
“Somebody has to be home,” Steve mutters curiously.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, did you call?” Tony says, coming down the steps flanked by Nat.<br/>
<br/>
“There you are. It was weirdly empty, and we were afraid you were up to something,” I answer.<br/>
<br/>
“For you? Nah. We’re here to see your dog.”<br/>
<br/>
“This is Nova,” Steve supplies as Tony and Nat bend down to pet her. They both coo over her with a vulnerability and energy I’ve never seen before.<br/>
<br/>
Steve leans in and kisses me, dropping the leash as he puts his hands on my hips and brings me closer to him. I close my eyes as his lips work across mine, both of us lost in the moment.<br/>
<br/>
“You two are so not safe for work right now. Leave the dog and our presence,” Tony commands, breaking the spell. Natasha still holds firmly to the dog.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t wish us away too quickly. We got the apartment, and we move in on the first,” I say over my shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
We walk out of the room and pass Charlie in the hall. “What’s all the fuss?” she asks. She eyes the bandages wrapped around our wrists and gasps. “Meg got a tattoo, Meg got a tattoo, Meg got a tattoo,” she sings loudly. Mentally, I facepalm. My best friend is literally a child.<br/>
<br/>
I roll my eyes yet again and follow Steve to the elevator. He pulls me close to him and kisses me, picking up where we left off as he backs me up slowly until I hit the wall. My mind goes numb with pleasure.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey, you wanna come play Mario Kart with me and Bucky?” Charlie interrupts from the hallway, sticking her arm through the doors so they stop closing. We both open our eyes and look at her, confused and annoyed, and her expression totally changes. “Ohhhh, I see. Never mind. Couple stuff.”<br/>
<br/>
“Zut [dang it],” I hiss between my teeth with a groan.<br/>
<br/>
She turns and marches a few feet into the adjoining hallway, where someone else is coming. “Don’t go near the elevator. I think it’s better for everyone if what’s happening in there stays private.”<br/>
<br/>
I groan even louder.<br/>
<br/>
“Wait!” Steve smiles a playful sideways grin at me. “I’ve actually never played.”<br/>
<br/>
“Steve, you’ve been out of the ice for, like, ten years.”<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs. “Nobody ever showed me how.”<br/>
<br/>
I raise my eyebrows. “You really wanna do this?”<br/>
<br/>
“I think I’m up for the challenge.”<br/>
<br/>
I look at him curiously, and he nods once in reassurance. “Oh, you are so going down!” I say. I grab the front of his shirt and pull him down to my level. “But this isn’t over.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m counting on that.”<br/>
<br/>
We hurry from the elevator and rejoin Charlie. Satisfied, she turns and walks purposefully down the perpendicular hallway. I pick up my speed until I’m right beside her and can elbow her hard in the ribs.<br/>
<br/>
“Ow! What was that for?” she complains.<br/>
<br/>
“You know what you did,” I reply, giving her a deadpan stare. I can’t hold it for more than a few seconds before breaking into a fit of laughter. “Sorry, Charlie.”<br/>
<br/>
She joins in, trying to poke my side as payback. I fend off her attacks until she stops. “I’m sorry, too. I’m not really trying to be annoying.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, right,” I snort. “It’s fine. Just next time, stay out of our business. I mean it. Now what do you say we kick their butts at racing?”<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
Steve curses loudly. “No way you’re getting ahead of me! Bucky, we gotta stay in the lead and beat them!”<br/>
<br/>
I laugh as my animated car zooms past Steve’s. “Easier said than done, Captain.” I reach one hand toward the couch behind me and fistbump Charlie.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, we’re an undefeated team,” she teases.<br/>
<br/>
I zoom across the finish line and sit back victoriously. “That’s how it’s done.” I grab Steve’s face with one hand and kiss his lips, causing him to fall back another place. “And watch your mouth.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ohoho,” Bucky chuckles. “Can you feel the tension, Charlie?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah,” she answers with a smirk. “Maybe you should take this somewhere else.”<br/>
<br/>
“Not yet,” I say. “I have to prove to him that I’m the boss at Just Dance too.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh no,” Charlie sighs, dramatically pressing her fingertips to her forehead.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh yes,” I counter, standing up and pulling my husband from the floor. “Are you ready?” I challenge.<br/>
<br/>
“To beat you? You bet,” Steve replies, his lips curling up into a rare cocky smirk.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, soldier.”<br/>
<br/>
Charlie cues the game up, and I give my husband a playful punch to his bicep. “No cheating.”<br/>
<br/>
He clicks on the first song that pops up, smiling wickedly at me. “Game on.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Even the Artist Needs Help Painting an Apartment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We walk into the living room together, both dressed in paint-flecked flannels and jeans. We set down our cans and survey the room. Steve tosses me a paint roller and turns on some music, and the two of us start spreading paint over the barren walls.<br/>
<br/>
As I reach the corner where two of the walls meet, my hip bumps into Steve. He turns around suddenly and accidentally hits my face with his paintbrush, streaking my nose and cheek with pale aqua paint. I scoff and dip my finger into the paint can, playfully dashing a line on his forehead and across his eyebrow. Thus, a paint war ensues.<br/>
<br/>
He starts to chase me across the room with the paintbrush. I fling my flannel back at him as a diversion, but even though I run from him, I’m no match for his speed. He lifts me off the floor and spins me around, leaving turquoise splotches on my white tank top, and when he sets me down again, he doesn’t let go. I lean in closer and we revolve on the spot to the music. We sway in place, oblivious to the half-finished paint job we were so focused on a few minutes ago.<br/>
<br/>
But soon Steve kicks over a half-empty bucket, awakening both of us from our serenity. We quickly clean up the mess and slide across the apartment in our socks to the kitchen, where the rest of our paint supply waits.<br/>
<br/>
Once we make it to the kitchen, Steve picks me up and spins me around again. I jump and sit down on the countertop, beckoning him closer, and then he kisses me, paint-streaked fingers winding through my hair and striping the brown with aquamarine. I pull him toward me--<br/>
<br/>
The door slams into the wall with a thud. “Hello?” Sam says from the open doorway, arms full of paint supplies, the other Avengers gathered behind him in the hallway. He looks...scandalized? Irritated? Bewildered? Stunned? Charlie, on the other hand, raises two thumbs up to me.<br/>
<br/>
Steve’s shirt slips through my fingers, and he turns around, his body halfway covering mine, and crosses his arms. He raises one eyebrow and stares at our guests. “Can I help you?”<br/>
<br/>
My heart thuds loudly in my chest, and I feel a hot flush covering my face. What’s different about this kiss from any other they’ve seen? They just have to assume….<br/>
<br/>
“We came here to help you,” Tony says. “Didn’t expect to walk in on you doing it in the kitchen.”<br/>
<br/>
Steve quirks an eyebrow at Tony. “Well, if you would knock on my door before just barging into my apartment, maybe you wouldn’t see anything you’d rather not see.”<br/>
<br/>
“No shame,” Tony mutters incredulously, shaking his head and half-smiling.<br/>
<br/>
I snicker and peek around Steve’s shoulder. “And for your information, you are mistaken, Tony. As you can see, the paint-y clothes are still on me.”<br/>
<br/>
“Then…why are you behind him?” he antagonizes.<br/>
<br/>
“That just happened, you idiot. Coincidence of the angle,” I huff, rolling my eyes. I ease myself off the counter and stand beside Steve, my anxiety melting away in the face of Tony’s jokes. He makes suggestive comments because he knows they’ll get to us. The key is just to ignore him. “Now are we going to paint, or what?”<br/>
<br/>
Everyone floods the room, gathering paintbrushes and throwing stuff all over our table. “The paint is already in the rooms where it goes,” Steve explains. “We should probably have two or three people max in one room so it doesn’t get too crowded.” Our friends continue to look to him for instruction. “That’s really all I have to say. Avengers assemble!”<br/>
<br/>
The team laughs and breaks off into smaller groups. I stand on my toes and kiss Steve’s cheek. “Where are we going?” I ask him.<br/>
<br/>
“Uh, living room. We’re finishing up in there, since we already started.” He takes my paint-smeared hand and pulls me back in there, where there are now a dozen canvases and frames in one corner, draped in drop cloths. He must’ve brought them in while I was cleaning up the spill.<br/>
<br/>
“What’s all of this?” I ask, moving closer to investigate.<br/>
<br/>
“Those are the artworks you told me we should hang up.”<br/>
<br/>
I reach for the back canvas, which is much larger than the others. “I don’t remember one this big.” I study the puzzling new addition with curiosity and a hint of trepidation.<br/>
<br/>
Steve scratches his head nervously. “Um, that’s because it’s a new blank one. I was hoping you would let me do a portrait of you.”<br/>
<br/>
I choke on the air I’m inhaling. “What?” I cough out.<br/>
<br/>
“I told you, you inspire me more than anyone else ever has. Would it really upset you if I painted you as the centerpiece of my art wall?”<br/>
<br/>
I furrow my brows. “I-- I guess not,” I answer, wrapping my arms around his waist. “You are just...full of surprises, Steve Rogers.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. A Lesson in What NOT to Do If You Don't Want to Accidentally Kill Your Husband</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Okay, are you ready?”<br/>
<br/>
I weigh my new shield in my hands, spinning it between my fingertips to examine it from all angles. It’s smaller than Steve’s, but it’s also not my primary weapon. It’s more of just an aesthetic thing for when I actually look like myself in battle. It’s just plain silver now, but I’m due for a suit upgrade any time, so it’ll get painted then.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, let’s do this,” I exhale.<br/>
<br/>
Steve stands with his own shield in hand, prepared to demonstrate proper throwing techniques so I don’t stupidly hurt myself. He effortlessly zings the shield across the training room, where it sticks in a target on the wall. “Easy.”<br/>
<br/>
“Um, not really. That kind of coordination is not my strong suit.”<br/>
<br/>
He walks across the room and tugs his shield out of the target. “Just try it. We’ll go from there.”<br/>
<br/>
He ducks just in time to avoid getting sliced in two by the flying disc. I clench my teeth and grimace in embarrassment. “Sorry,” I mutter.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey, no harm, no foul.”<br/>
<br/>
“Just say it. I suck.”<br/>
<br/>
Seeing how hopeless I am, he props his shield against the wall, picks mine up, and jogs across the room to me. “Let me help you. Here.”<br/>
<br/>
I take it back, readying my arm to throw again, as he stands behind me and adjusts my posture. It reminds me of our first training session, and I can’t help but smile.<br/>
<br/>
“You wanna be careful of your form and momentum.”<br/>
<br/>
He guides me slowly through the motion a few times, and then I finally work up the nerve to throw the shield again. It doesn’t hit the target, but it’s a heck of a lot closer.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. 2022, A Summer's Ball</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yes, the title is absolutely a Hamilton reference because it just popped into my head as I was finalizing edits for this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I can’t stand either one of these dresses,” I complain as I assess my fashion choices for the mission. I hold them in front of the mirror, lifting one and then the other to assess how it looks. One dress is strappy and covered in red sequins, but the neckline cuts too low for me to feel comfortable. The other is black and long-sleeved, but it’s backless and has small cutouts close to the hips, one of which conveniently exposes my smaller scar as well as the obvious one down my spine. Fantastic. Not to mention that both are incredibly tight and clingy and trail behind me on the floor, so I’ll probably trip and rip whichever dress I end up wearing if somebody steps on it. I roll my eyes and groan again, flopping backward onto Natasha’s bed in defeat, sparkly dresses strewn around me.<br/>
<br/>
Nat turns around at the sound of my body meeting the bed. “Do you need some help?”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m just not comfortable,” I explain defeatedly, staring at the ceiling. She moves into my line of sight and peers down at me. “This type of dress doesn’t feel right. I’m afraid I’ll rip it because it’s too tight, or that it won’t work with my figure. That’s why my wedding dress was poufy, not slinky. Besides, fancy people like the ones we’re pretending to be don’t have scars like this” I sit up and pull my hair over my shoulder to expose the top of the mark “all over themselves.”<br/>
<br/>
While her face indicates a touch of sympathy, I know that Nat’s all business. “This is a fancy evening party. You’re going undercover. In order to blend in, you need to dress to impress. Find what works. If you need help, you can just ask.”<br/>
<br/>
“Remind me why we even have to go again.”<br/>
<br/>
“That was definitely rich-people tech those guys were riding on your wedding night. If anybody knows who they are, they’ll be at this gala.” She steps in front of me in a strapless black dress, and I “oo” and “ah” at her disguise. She catches the look of apprehension on my face again as I contemplate the two dresses still in my hands. “Come on, Rogers. Let’s get your husband in here and ask him about it.” She reaches forward and grabs my wrist, dragging me out of the room.<br/>
<br/>
A rack of dresses still stands in the hallway, and I stop to thumb through the section marked as my size as Natasha marches off in search of Steve. Just before I give up hope and resign myself to wearing something uncomfortable, I finally stop on a sequined black dress with one long sleeve and a slit part way up one side of the skirt. I sweep the hanger off the metal bar and hurry back into the room, where I dress quickly and admire my reflection in the mirror. Now this dress I like. I switch my hair from its eccentric royal blue to a light shade of honey-tinged brown for a test. Perfect.<br/>
<br/>
Someone pounds loudly on the door, and I rush over to open it a crack. “Found him,” Natasha says from somewhere behind Steve, her footsteps already fading away until I can’t hear her heels clicking anymore.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey,” Steve says with a smile. He knows he can still send butterflies fluttering in my stomach when he tries to. “Romanoff said you wanted my opinion on your dress?” He looks bewildered by the prospect, but willing to help anyway.<br/>
<br/>
I open the door all the way, and his eyes widen infinitesimally. “What do you think?” I ask, twirling once. “I hated the other ones I tried on, but then I found this one.”<br/>
<br/>
“Wow, Meg,” he says, hugging me close to him. “I think you look incredible.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thank you,” I blush. “You look really nice yourself.” He’s wearing a classic suit over a black shirt and silky black tie. It’s classy and very, very attractive. “Like, really nice.” I bite my lip and look up to meet his eyes, eliciting a snicker from him.<br/>
<br/>
“Too bad we have to split up for the evening.”<br/>
<br/>
“I know,” I say, trying not to whine as I let go. The couples have to separate so we’re not recognizable or conspicuous, but that means there’s a possibility of Steve holding, dancing with, kissing one of my teammates. I shouldn’t technically begrudge them that, since it’s for a mission, but….<br/>
<br/>
I know I’m not the only one worried about this. Wanda, Vision, Tony, and Clint are all probably turning over the same questions of loyalty in their heads as well. But with Vision’s relatively new ability to disguise himself as human, at least he and Wanda can stick together…. Apparently my shapeshifting doesn’t qualify the same way because I have to act like a different real person, plus I’ve never tested how long I can maintain a disguise, and I’d get distracted from the mission.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asks, waving a hand in front of my face. I blink rapidly and try to clear my thoughts.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m great,” I say, smiling gently at him. I wrap my arms around his waist again, batting my eyelashes at him. “I just don’t relish the idea of pretending to be all romance-y with Bucky. And you with Natasha.”<br/>
<br/>
He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t like it either, but it has to be done. I trust Bucky and Nat, and, more importantly, I trust you. You can always tell him to back off if you’re not comfortable; he’ll understand. Or if not, threaten that we’ll both beat him up if he doesn’t mind his boundaries. I’ll make sure Nat knows the same rules.” He pauses as I snicker at the idea of myself beating up Bucky. “Are you ready to go?”<br/>
<br/>
I snap out of my laughter and refocus quickly. “Uh, yeah, let me just--” I slide my rings off my finger, feeling suddenly naked without them, and reach toward the table by the door to grab my purse and drop the jewelry “grab this.” I hold it up and give Steve a wide, silly grin, trying to hide my discomfort. “Avengers assemble?” I stick my tongue out at him playfully as we leave the room.<br/>
<br/>
Everyone else is gathered by the front doors, where we have limousines waiting to take us to the party. Steve gives me one last little kiss before striding to Natasha. I watch her for a second, trying to convey my thoughts on my face, but finally give up on the endeavor. I cross the room and stand beside Bucky, who rests his arm on my shoulder even though my shoes make us almost the same height.<br/>
<br/>
“Everybody remember what to do?” Sam asks.<br/>
<br/>
“Act like fancy rich snobs and see if we can get some information about who was terrorizing the city?” I say.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, so like Tony but classy,” Charlie interjects.<br/>
<br/>
“That’s-- Yeah, pretty much. Let’s head out.”<br/>
<br/>
“I resent that!” Tony yells at his doppelganger’s daughter.<br/>
<br/>
We all squeeze into the limousines, which drive through the twilit streets. Conversation in our car is subdued.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m sorry we have to do this,” Bucky says softly. “Trust me, it feels awful from my end too. Everything about this is wrong. Newly married gal, pretending to be in love with her husband’s best friend… That sounds like some weird dumb soap opera. Now that’s the last apology you’re getting from me until we’re out of that rich soiree. We’ve got to be in character, so you can’t object if I have to make us seem convincing. Sorry.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s fine, Bucky. I know. I’m trying not to think about it too much. No offense.” He barks a short laugh as I take a deep breath. “You can do this….” I whisper to myself.<br/>
<br/>
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t blow our cover, Meg.” I glare at him, earning another eyeroll. “You know, we’re not there yet, and Steve’s right here. I know you’re dying over being away from him, so go see if he can help you calm down.” He looks away and makes eye contact with his best friend across the compartment of the car. “Hey Steve, I think your wife needs some reassurance that she won’t get in trouble if I have to kiss her once or twice.”<br/>
<br/>
Steve glances between the three of us, and Natasha motions for me to switch seats with her. I hop over to the other seat, and Steve takes the opportunity to kiss me into oblivion until the car stops.<br/>
<br/>
The chauffeur opens the door, and I become aware of the situation again. I compose myself, check my lipstick, and step out of the car, followed by my colleagues. Bucky extends his arm to me, and together we march into a party none of us belong at.<br/>
<br/>
---<br/>
<br/>
Bucky is conversing in low, murmured Russian with another guest when I return with a drink. He makes eye contact with me and signals me closer as they finish talking.<br/>
“Sir, this is my girlfriend, Jasmine. She has good connections in the business.”<br/>
<br/>
“Pretty.” The suspicious, creepy Russian man and the bewildered but vaguely threatening woman beside him shake my hand and ask me a few questions, which I answer with a too-big smile, trying not to blow my cover. I try not to feel slighted that the man reduces me to nothing more than “pretty” since there are bigger things at stake. Something doesn’t feel right here.<br/>
<br/>
“He didn’t tell me anything,” Bucky whispers in my ear. “We shouldn’t waste time.”<br/>
<br/>
“It was nice to meet you,” I say cheerfully as Bucky steers me closer to him and away from the couple.<br/>
<br/>
The two of us walk calmly away and soon get swept up on the dance floor. As we dance, we covertly discuss our plan in code terms, but it soon becomes apparent that we talk much more than the other dancers. Across the circle, I see Steve and Natasha waltzing. Bucky must sense the concoction of emotions that fill me at that sight--jealousy, shock, insecurity, anguish--because he tightens his arm around me and picks up the speed of our movement. He graces my cheek with a small kiss, and I’m grateful that he kept it brief and guided me away from the center of things.<br/>
<br/>
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous of Natasha. I don’t doubt for a second Steve’s loyal and steadfast words that he spoke in his vows. I just… It feels like we’ve been robbed of so many important moments because of our chaotic lives as Earth’s mightiest heroes, and I don’t like to be reminded of what things could be like if he were just Steve and I were just Meg. If we didn’t have targets on our backs and symbols on our chests...<br/>
<br/>
Bucky breaks through the dismal tone of my thoughts and calls me back to the mission at hand. “You go find Tony and check in with him. I’ll meet you in a second.” I nod stoically and walk away from him as the song ends, searching the enormous ballroom for Tony.<br/>
<br/>
I slow down and move back and forth, searching for a window between people through which I can see. Out of nowhere, a gigantic man in a dark suit and sunglasses makes a beeline for me. I try to casually stroll away from him, but he swiftly overtakes me, forces a blindfold over my eyes, and throws me powerfully over his shoulder, simply saying that if I scream or resist in any way, he’ll kill me right here and now. I try to think of a way around this, but I can’t.<br/>
<br/>
“I’ve got one. Now find the other two.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Aaaaand We Officially Have a Villain!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I strain against the bonds holding me to the stiff wooden chair. I grit my teeth as I squirm more aggressively to get free.<br/>
<br/>
“Meg? Meg, it’s pointless. There’s no way out. We’ve already tried. Powers and gadgets don’t work.” Wanda gives me a tired, defeated look, and Natasha’s face mirrors that same despair.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re right. There is no way out.” The English girl’s voice comes from just outside the window of the...interrogation room. What’s going on? “You’re all my prisoners.” Oh, good, she answers unspoken questions.<br/>
<br/>
“What do you want with us?” I shout, tugging harder and managing to scoot the chair closer to the window by a few inches.<br/>
<br/>
“Tut, tut, you are a fiery one.” The girl, probably in her late teens or early twenties at the most, rhythmically tosses a rectangular object (is it literally just a raw block of wood?) and catches it in her palm. “You see, I want revenge.”<br/>
<br/>
“What for?” Natasha asks coolly, turning her chair toward the window. Wanda also spins around enough to turn our loose back-to-back circle into a squiggly line.<br/>
<br/>
“What for?” the girl laughs cuttingly, menace creeping into her voice. “What for?” She throws the object to the ground with a thunderous sound as her voice rises hysterically. “The most important people in my life are dead because of you Avengers! My parents were SHIELD operatives. They died years ago in DC, but none of the Avengers cared! How was I, an innocent, sheltered child at the time, to know that my mother was a Hydra agent? My parents were on opposite sides of a battle most people didn’t even know existed! But that meant nothing to Captain America. No, he didn’t seem concerned about who lived and who died, but that. Mattered. To me!” Tears brim in her eyes as she calls back the brutal memories of her past.<br/>
<br/>
“What does that have to do with us?” Wanda demands. “Do you even know who we are?”<br/>
<br/>
“Of course I know who you are. You’re Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch; Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow; and Megan Rogers, the Mirage. I didn’t take the other girl because she’s from another dimension. She doesn’t matter to me. As you can see, I did my research. I have gathered the three of you here because I know how important you are to dear Captain America. I didn’t know your specific relationships beforehand, but I soon figured them out.”<br/>
<br/>
“You completely missed the fact that his best friend, the one he literally started a war over, is also downstairs.” Nat sounds incredibly bored as she stares blankly at the girl.<br/>
<br/>
Our captor rolls her eyes. “I picked you out beforehand and checked SHIELD’s files while my assistants went to collect you.”<br/>
<br/>
“Collect us,” I scoff. The girl pays no attention.<br/>
<br/>
“I knew he would try to come and save you heroically no matter who you were,” the girl sneers. “He’s almost a father figure to you, right, Wanda?”<br/>
<br/>
Wanda shrugs. “More like a protective brother, I’d say.”<br/>
<br/>
The girl moves on as if she didn’t hear Wanda’s correction. “And his close friend and partner,” she adds, gesturing to Natasha.<br/>
<br/>
“You could say that.” Nat shows no emotion in her face, but I catch a subtle twitch as she tries again to escape.<br/>
<br/>
“And how lucky I was to find out he was married!” the girl continues, instantly forgetting about Natasha. “It’s been, what? A few months? A year?” I shake my head sadly, trying not to cry at the thought of never even living to see my first wedding anniversary. “What a perfect way to break his patriotic little heart.” Her eyes pinpoint mine and bore into them as she clenches one hand into a fist, making me shiver. “By killing you slowly in front of him. I do notice you’re not wearing any rings. I wonder why that would be?” Her voice sends chills down my spine.<br/>
<br/>
“If you know so much about us, won’t you at least tell us who you are?” I shout, furrowing my brow and glaring authoritatively at her as I skirt her insulting question of my loyalty and my mission.<br/>
<br/>
The girl strolls over to the door and slowly strides in, a cruel smile creeping onto her face. “As a matter of fact, I will. I do hope that if you have any communications devices that I haven’t discovered left on you, your friends will hear this and try to come up here and, well...avenge you. And then I’ll slaughter them, just like they did so many innocent people in New York. DC. Sokovia. Lagos. Wakanda. The Avengers’ bloody mark has stained countries all across the globe, and it’s high time that someone wiped them out before they can do any more damage. Ladies, my name is Emily Greer, and I will be your demise.”<br/>
<br/>
We stare at her silently for a few seconds. “That was...dramatic,” Wanda says.<br/>
<br/>
“Someone really likes monologuing,” I add. “I appreciate the theatrics, Emily. Did you ever get a lead in high school theatre? Have you considered Broadway as your post-prison career?”<br/>
<br/>
“So how did you manage to keep the three of us in here?” Nat asks conversationally, as if this woman hasn’t just threatened to kill us to torture our friends.That’s her style, I guess.<br/>
<br/>
“I took your weapons when you arrived with my thugs,” Emily explains, “and this room is lined with all the right substances to weaken you. I also have specific restraints for each Avenger to prevent his or her escape using different elements and technology.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh really,” I whisper. “Did you check the most thorough databases?” I try to transform, but I can’t completely shift my form. Her eyes spark with humor at what she must take as stubbornness, stupidity, or arrogance on my part, but she doesn’t know that I have another trick up my sleeve.<br/>
<br/>
My eyes dart hurriedly around the room, where I spot a deflated soccer ball, faded with age, lying in the corner outside the gray chamber. I will it to become a buzzing, flying drone (like something out of Star Wars) that can break us free and distract Emily so we can escape, and somehow, it does. It’s more tedious than normal, but my weakened power still works.<br/>
<br/>
The little sphere drone crashes through the window pane, sending splinters of glass flying across the room. It shoots at Emily, and she dodges as it slices easily through the chains at my back. Natasha jumps and slams her chair onto the ground, crushing it, and the drone cuts her and Wanda free of their bonds too. We sprint out of the room, the robot behind us and still firing at the vengeful girl.<br/>
<br/>
We leave the drone outside the door to stand guard, and then we make our way back down to the party. Along the way, we straighten each other’s dresses to hide the fact that we’ve been taken captive.<br/>
<br/>
Downs several flights of stairs, around the corner, up the hall, and there’s the ballroom. Amidst the thinning fray of people, none of our teammates are in sight. Natasha sighs and makes a beeline for the back of the ballroom, and Wanda and I have no choice but to follow her.<br/>
<br/>
We clear the edge of the crowd and head straight for a narrow, nondescript door, barely noticeable on the decorative wall it’s set in. Upon opening the door, all heads turn and a small space clears in the middle of the room crowded full of superheroes, revealing….<br/>
<br/>
“Agent Coulson?” Natasha inquires in disbelief, raising one eyebrow unbelievably high.<br/>
<br/>
“Agent Romanoff.” Coulson nods and offers the three of us a small smile.<br/>
<br/>
“Pietro?” Wanda gasps, her voice cracking as it rises. She rushes forward to hug the silver-haired young man, who tenderly wraps her in his arms. “But you-- In Sokovia-- You died!” she sobs into his chest.<br/>
<br/>
Pietro shrugs. “Like Cap said: I walked it off.”<br/>
<br/>
We all look to Agent Coulson for explanation. “Long story,” he answers vaguely. He claps his hands and searches the room. “And I heard we have another new hero besides Godzilla whom I still have yet to meet?” He looks at me. “Hi, I’m Phil, or Agent Coulson, if we’re being professional.”<br/>
<br/>
“Meg,” I say, shaking his outstretched hand.<br/>
<br/>
“Meg Rogers,” Tony adds insistently. “She and Steve got married not that long ago.” He folds his arms across his chest and smiles deviously at me as I blush a little bit.<br/>
Agent Coulson wheels on Steve. “You got married and you didn’t tell me? Dude, I am, like, your biggest fan!”<br/>
<br/>
“Sorry,” Steve says. “I was still under the impression that you were dead until tonight.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, Fury neglected to tell us you were back to work,” Bruce says. “I’m sure he had his reasons, but….”<br/>
<br/>
He considers this for a minute. “Yeah, sounds about right.” He shrugs and turns back to me. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Meg, and congratulations.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks,” I laugh out awkwardly. Coulson smiles before turning aside, muttering something about his team betraying him.<br/>
<br/>
“Guys, I hate to break up this happy little gossip sesh, but the three of us who came in kinda late just got kidnapped by a crazed British girl bent on destroying the Avengers,” Natasha cuts in.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m sorry, what?” Steve demands.<br/>
<br/>
“Did nobody see those enormous thugs who came in and carted us off to the top floor of this building?” Wanda queries.<br/>
<br/>
“Where are these thugs?” Thor questions, stepping forward, eager to defend us and fight some giants.<br/>
<br/>
“They disappeared once they took us up there, and we just saw Emily,” I answer.<br/>
<br/>
“Emily?” Sam says.<br/>
<br/>
“Emily Greer,” I continue. “Her parents worked for SHIELD, but they were killed in DC when you guys discovered that Hydra had infiltrated the organization. Her mother was Hydra, her father was SHIELD, and she was orphaned, so now she’s forever bitter at Steve and determined to get her revenge on the Avengers.”<br/>
<br/>
“Anna and Tyler Greer. I remember them,” Coulson says, realization dawning on his face and quickly transforming into horror.<br/>
<br/>
“What does this have to do with you?” Bucky asks. “Why did she choose you three?”<br/>
<br/>
Nat gives him a “you’re an idiot” glare. “She knew enough to pick the three of us out beforehand. I was surprised she didn’t try to capture you too, Barnes. She must’ve figured out that Steve was somehow romantically involved with one of his teammates” she shoots me a look “but she didn’t know which one. I think she also gauged his protective nature, and maybe she knew that I was also on that mission in DC. I don’t know what she was thinking. She did half her research while we were being taken hostage, and I guess she just got lucky.”<br/>
<br/>
“Did she do anything to you?” Vision asks softly.<br/>
<br/>
“Chained us up to chairs in her private interrogation room and threatened to kill us in front of you to torture you before she killed you too. She knows how to stop all of our powers with combinations of elements in the room and the technology in her handcuffs.” Wanda frowns and crosses her arms, looking unimpressed.<br/>
<br/>
“That sounds like the Rogues all over again,” Steve says, looking at me with a loaded gaze. I know we’re both reflecting on the moment when he nearly killed me because I couldn’t reverse my alien transformation.<br/>
<br/>
“But she didn’t know I could alter things besides myself. That’s how we escaped.”<br/>
<br/>
“Where is she now?” Coulson asks.<br/>
<br/>
“Still hanging out upstairs with Meg’s drone,” Natasha says offhandedly. “If you want to check it out, you can after we’re done here.”<br/>
<br/>
“What’s our mission status?” I ask.<br/>
<br/>
“We’re done. Nobody at this stupid party was of any use,” Clint says.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, good.” I march across the room and firmly kiss my husband. He lifts me off my feet to add to it. Once he sets me down again, I say, “I just felt wrong. No offense, Bucky.”<br/>
<br/>
He chuckles. “None taken.”<br/>
<br/>
“So what brings you boys here?” Natasha says.<br/>
<br/>
“We’re your backup. Fury said you might be a bit...preoccupied at the moment.” Steve and I both tense up, preparing for another onslaught of teasing and shaming, but Coulson senses the shift and quickly seeks to assuage our fears. “Just because you’re recovering from the wedding and everything! He said the whole team and didn’t name the newlyweds, hence why we didn’t know!”<br/>
<br/>
Some of the others start to snicker. Sam gives us a sympathetic look and calls out, “Okay, let’s be professional and go check out this girl’s hideout.”<br/>
<br/>
The others nod in assent, and Sam leads the trek out of the closet-like room and toward a secret elevator. I do notice him elbowing my husband as we walk. We squeeze into the crowded space, drawing weapons and prepping for battle when possible. Tony attaches a nanotech suit base to his chest. Clint unfolds an extending bow. Natasha pulls out two electric batons. Steve gives me the okay, and I un-vanish the shield strapped to his back. The elevator ride is quiet, but at least it’s short.<br/>
<br/>
My drone still hovers watchfully outside the door to the apartment, apparently undisturbed. That’s a good sign, I think, unless she’s bewitched it somehow.<br/>
<br/>
Steve kicks the door open effortlessly, and our team begins to carefully search the space. The work is short and fruitless.<br/>
<br/>
“Look!” Peter shouts, pointing at the open window letting in cold night air. Several of them mutter under their breath.<br/>
<br/>
I rush to the window and peer over the sill, leaning out of the building. “No trace of her,” I breathe. I draw myself back in and turn around. “She’s gone.” And it’s my fault. I didn’t think she would try to go through a window seven stories up.<br/>
<br/>
Coulson lifts one hand to his ear and murmurs something to someone on the other end. “Well, I guess we’d better start tracking her.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Coffee Just Contributes to the Chaos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve and I slide into our seats for the meeting, coffee in hand, right as Coulson, Fury, and Hill stand up to commence the debriefing. Charlie and Peter scurry in moments later, earning disapproving looks from Tony.</p><p>“Whatcha drinkin’?” Charlie asks to diffuse the tension.</p><p>“Uh, white chocolate mocha,” I say in confusion. </p><p>“Ah, as dark as your soul,” my best friend says with a nod. “You, Steve?”</p><p>“Iced Americano?”</p><p>“Iced Americano for the iced Americano. Nice.” </p><p>Fury clears his throat and rolls his eye. Charlie sits up attentively, and he proceeds with the meeting, sharing what little intel we know about Emily with the team and the selected agents helping run the mission. He then explains each individual team’s job. </p><p>“...Romanoff and Wilson, you’re cutting her off once we find her, Stark’s team is scanning with the satellites immediately and then joining the other teams, Rogers and...Rogers, you’re tracking and following our target.”</p><p>“Aw, yes! Team America!” Charlie cries, punching the air. The entire conference room stares at her blankly. “What? Seriously? Captain America and American Dream? Come on, guys. You’re killin’ me.”</p><p>“American Dream?” Maria whispers. </p><p>“Meg hasn’t told you she’s changing her name?”</p><p>“It was you who said that, not me, Char!” I exclaim. “I never made it official.” To be honest, I hadn’t been thinking of renaming myself at all, but of course Charlie and her insane conclusions jumped ahead once again. Is it a stupid idea?</p><p>“I like it.” Steve squeezes my fingers. “If you do decide to change it. I like the idea of us being a team. Is that what you’re worrying about? Stealing my brand?” He chuckles, and I pause and make a face. Kinda. “It’s okay.”</p><p>“So...is the name changing or not?” Coulson says, a hint of impatience entering his otherwise-reverent voice. </p><p>I glance over at my best friend, narrowing my eyes just long enough for her to notice. “Sure.”</p><p>“We’ll get someone working on that new suit ASAP,” Maria says, jotting down a note on her notepad. </p><p>“That won’t be necessary,” Charlie quips. “I already got it handled. The shield just needs a paint job.” She tosses a bundle of red and blue leather across the table at me. “Try it on when this is over. I think you’ll like it.”</p><p>The rest of the meeting only gets about forty percent of my attention. I try to discreetly analyze the new suit, afraid to unfold it all the way and risk getting in trouble. Bored, I roll my chair closer to Steve’s and lean my head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around me and twists his fingers into my hair in agreement that he’d rather be anywhere else too. </p><p>“If our American love birds could focus for one minute, then we’ll dismiss,” Fury growls across the room. I sit up and glare openly at him. “We’ll keep scouting with our SHIELD satellites just to back up the Stark ones. Let us know if you see, hear, or find anything about Emily’s whereabouts. We’ll keep you posted.” He lifts a hand dismissively and turns away, so I push the chair back and jump up, dashing out of the room and weaving my way to my old bedroom. </p><p>I lay the suit out across the bed, smoothing it and admiring the new style. The design is similar to that of Steve’s, only tailored to fit my less muscular body. The armor is red with blue accents and a four-pointed purple star on the chest. It’s absolutely perfect. </p><p>I change clothes and walk into the bathroom to look in the mirror. I have to admit, the suit looks good. I throw my hair up in a messy ponytail and practice a few moves (ya know, to check my mobility and definitely not to appreciate how cool I look fighting). Once I decide it’s good, I walk out into the main sector of the tower. </p><p>I strut into the living room, where everyone’s sitting around with coffee or lunch. “Whaddya think?” I ask, striking a pose. </p><p>Carol looks me up and down. “I feel like you’re trying to steal my look,” she teases with a huge grin. I can’t help but smile back at her.</p><p>“It looks great, Meg,” Sam adds. </p><p>I hear footsteps behind me, and then the fact that half of our team isn’t in there yet finally clicks in my brain. I turn around to see who just came in, but the newcomer speaks before I can see. </p><p>“You know, most men think a red dress is the most classic and attractive thing to see a woman in, but I have to say, that suit is killer.” Steve hugs me from behind and kisses my forehead. “Red is definitely your color, Meg.”</p><p>“I know.”</p>
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<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Peter Parker Pleads to Postpone His Own Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>lol can you tell I'm bitter at 2020 from this chapter?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Guys, it definitely doesn’t feel right to be doing this right now. We’re in the middle of an investigation!” Peter squeaks. </p><p>“Nonsense,” Tony says. “You only graduate college once!”</p><p>“Well, unless you go back for a bigger degree,” May points out. “But we already bought all this food and invited a bunch of people, so you’re having your party.”</p><p>“Aunt May, it’s not a party like for my high school graduation--”</p><p>“Fine, then, your ‘big dinner.’”</p><p>Peter comes over to where I stand in the kitchen arranging food. He slowly hugs me, making it really awkward, and pleads, “Can you please tell Aunt May to be reasonable here?”</p><p>“Nope! We are not gonna let this year ruin any more celebrations for us, mmkay? It’ll be a fun way to ease everybody’s minds, which we all desperately need, so go get dressed and get ready to celebrate yourself.”</p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Visions of Sugar Plums? As If</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Guys, I hate to do this, especially less than twenty-four hours after Peter’s party, but the gala mission showed us one thing: we don’t know what else Emily, or any other enemies we might face in the future for that matter, can do. If they can manipulate our minds, they’ll tear us apart.” Wanda’s face is set with determination, but I know it only masks the sadness she feels at doing this to us. “Fury and I talked, and this is our best bet. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“We need this,” Steve assures her. “This team needs to be ready for anything. We’ll face this together, just like we do everything.”</p><p>Wanda cracks a weak smile. “Thanks, Steve. Any volunteers?”</p><p>After a moment of hesitation, I step forward bravely, trying not to shiver as I think of what’s going to come. “I guess I’ll go first,” I whisper hoarsely, hopeful that I can hide my anxiety.</p><p>“Are you ready?” Wanda squeaks out, her head half-hidden under the headset that will allow the others to watch what she sees in my mind on the screen out here. I can tell she’s upset about hurting me and the others. I nod stiffly and open the door to the small square room. </p><p>Inside, it’s very dark. The only window is the one separating me from my friends. The lights in the hall dim, so I can only make out the vague outlines of the others through the glass. Then a flare of red blossoms in midair as Wanda unleashes her magic. </p><p>Everything slowly fades to absolute blackness. Then my vision explodes with a disorienting flash of white light, and I stand in front of the fearsome Thanos. The stories the others tell of him have terrified me. The enormous purple monster stares me down, grinning maliciously, as he waves one hand and screams fill the air. I hear individual voices cry out to me, begging for help as they all fall to the ground in helpless defeat. First it’s random civilians. Then my friends start crying out. Rhodey. Tony. Wanda. Peter. Gamora. Jemma. Sam. Vision. Drax. Nat. Daisy. Scott. Clint. Rocket. Bucky. Fitz. Groot. Hope. Carol. Melinda. Mantis. Stephen. T’challa. Bruce. Thor. Pepper. My parents. Leo. Quill. Shuri. Charlie. Pietro. Coulson. Some of these heroes I’ve only met once, but each voice still hits me like a wrecking ball, causing me to stagger and fall. I collapse beside Wanda and Natasha, practically my sisters, and Charlie, my best friend in the world, but what I see there haunts me. Their eyes are empty and glazed over, and I feel no heartbeats in their chests. <br/>“You did this,” the titan says from his towering position above me. “You idiotic fool, thinking you could be a hero. You just brought about their deaths. You didn’t save anyone.” He pauses. “But of course, I’ve saved the best surprise for last.”</p><p>Thanos uses his mysterious power to levitate me off the ground. I squirm and writhe as he lifts me into the air without even touching me. He holds out one upturned purple palm, and I land in it. He opens his other hand and reveals a bloodied and bruised Steve. I gasp in horror. </p><p>“Steve!” I cry out. He doesn’t answer.</p><p>A tiny gun, loaded and ready to fire, floats down toward me, and no matter how hard I try to clench my fist, it still lands in my hand. I feel my feet moving forward without my direction, and I take a running leap from one of Thanos’s hands to the other. My mind is screaming for me to stop, but I can’t. I’m trapped, like a marionnette or a Barbie doll in play. </p><p>“You don’t have to do this.” Steve stares at the ground far below us as he speaks. </p><p>“I wish that were true.” I hadn’t even thought the words, but Thanos manipulates me again. They don’t even sound sad--just heartless and malicious. Robotic. I’m not in control of my own mind anymore. The words I say aren’t...me.</p><p>Steve looks pleadingly into my eyes. “Megs, don’t you love me?” he gasps out breathlessly as I stand over his disheveled form and aim the weapon at him. The nickname doesn’t seem to touch my cold puppet heart, even as anguished tears begin to slide down my cheeks in rivers.</p><p>I can’t make any protest against the next word. “No.” And then I pull the trigger. </p><p>The vision dissipates, but I can’t unsee the traumatic images I just witnessed. The tears come gushing out of my eyes as I fall to the floor, curling up into a fetal position and screaming, crying and writhing. My head starts to hurt. </p><p>I hear the door swing open and hit the wall with a loud bang. Several voices start babbling loudly, but I don’t make an effort to distinguish their words. </p><p>“Meg, are you okay?” Steve asks as his arms wrap around my body and lift me off the concrete. </p><p>“Did you see Wanda’s reaction? Were you watching what she saw?” Tony demands. “Of course she’s not okay!” </p><p>I sob shakily against Steve’s chest as he carries me into the hallway. “I’m so sorry,” he says as he sits down against the wall and lays me on his lap, stroking my hair with one hand while his other presses my palm against his chest so I can feel his heartbeat. “It’s over, sunflower. It wasn’t real. I’m right here. We’re all okay.”</p><p>I open my eyes and squint around the room. “Why did I volunteer to go first? I’m not some movie heroine. How am I supposed to guard my mind against that?”</p><p>That breaks the brittle air just a bit as the others laugh dryly. The room is still tense as the others watch my victimized reaction and dread their own fear simulations.</p><p>“I’ll go,” Natasha offers bravely.</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. And Now Everyone is Falling Apart at the Seams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We’re all in rough shape. While I did manage to convince myself that the vision was equivalent to the nightmare in its falsehood, that doesn’t push it from my mind. </p><p>The others did no better. Natasha watched memories of the horrid place where she grew up. Tony saw his closest friends fall dead and blame him. Thor relived his people’s slaughter. Clint faced his family’s murder. The others’ visions were even worse.</p><p>Steve faced his plane crash in a new, roundabout way. The “dream” involved the Avengers getting stuck in an isolated frozen tundra. There was a very clear escape route, but it required one person to stay behind to let the rest out. He bravely, though tearfully, remained in the frozen wasteland, and the rest of us watched as he was stranded in the bitter cold to release us from the frozen desert. Left behind, just like he always feared.</p><p>We leave the room feeling as worn and beaten as if we’d just fought an actual battle. It’s late, and everyone creeps off to solitude without a word. Steve and I don’t even have the capacity to drive back to our apartment. We’re both asleep minutes after crawling into bed. </p><p>My sleep is plagued with nightmares. Scenes of death and horrific gore flash through my mind until I finally wake up in a cold sweat. </p><p>I look around the room nervously, but there are no monsters in the corners, and Steve is still safely sleeping beside me. I know I won’t be able to sleep anymore, so I slowly get out of the bed, grab some cheap paints from Steve’s supply (I won’t waste his nicer ones), and sneak into the hallway. </p><p>I sit down at a table in a secluded room, prop up a gigantic canvas, and pour some paints. The fear starts to catch up to me again, so I scoop up some deep purple paint and start to smear it across the canvas. </p><p>---</p><p>A couple hours into the process, I bump into the easel where the first canvas is drying while working on a second one. It hits the wall loudly, startling me, but nothing is broken or damaged (namely, Tony’s wall), so I move on. </p><p>A moment later, Steve emerges from the hallway. “Meg, what’s going on?” he asks, unaccusing but aghast. </p><p>“I, uh, had a nightmare. I couldn’t sleep. I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your materials.”</p><p>“Of course not,” he answers, sympathetic but bewildered. “Come on, you need to get some sleep.”</p><p>Something in his facial expression, a mix of caring, commanding, and pitiful, convinces me. “Okay, let me just clean this up.”</p>
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Stress Makes You Sick, and Being Sick Sucks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The nightmares don’t stop. Whether we’re at the apartment or the tower, I have to get up almost every night to avoid succumbing to them again. </p><p>Steve’s noticed, of course, but neither of us really knows what to do about it. He listens to the stories of each nightmare and holds me tightly, but that doesn’t fight them off. Even painting eventually stops working. I’m out of ideas, so I just try to fall back asleep without waking my husband with my screams or my tears. </p><p>One night, I wake up to the sound of Steve shouting my name in his sleep. I shake him awake, and he curses profusely under his breath when he regains consciousness. </p><p>“Are you okay?” I ask. “You kept yelling my name. It must’ve been either a really great dream or an awful nightmare.”</p><p>He chuckles nervously and sits up. “Stop it and cuddle me, you weirdo.” </p><p>He tells me about his nightmare and pulls me close to his chest. Hearing how much his dreams terrorize him with threats of my death makes me realize that I’m truly not alone. It almost rids my mind of my traumas.</p><p>---</p><p>The sleep deprivation eventually catches up to me. I wake up one morning in the apartment feeling simultaneously hot and cold as well as woozy. I try to stand up, lose my balance, and fall backwards onto the bed. Steve notices instantly. He circles the bed, picks me up like he did on our wedding night, and carries me out to the living room and places me on the couch. He disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes before he comes back.</p><p>Steve sits on the couch next to me, hands me a bowl of oatmeal, and puts his hand on top of mine. I try to stop shivering, but he’s touching me, so he can tell. “Meg, you’re freezing.”</p><p>“Yeah, I noticed,” I say sassily, struggling to control my quivering arms. </p><p>“C’mere,” Steve commands, holding out his arms and enveloping me in a hug. </p><p>“Whoa, you’re really warm,” I whisper in awe, snuggling closer. </p><p>“Yet another benefit of weird ‘40s science,” he jokes, squeezing me a little tighter. It feels nice. I close my eyes and lean my head on his shoulder. The fever seems to have concentrated all my body heat in my head, so laying it on Steve has no effect, unlike my shivering limbs. He raises one eyebrow suggestively. “Are you telling me you’ve never noticed before?”</p><p>“Sorry if I was preoccupied,” I retort, snuggling closer and raising my eyebrow at him. “Dang, now you’re hot in multiple ways.” We both shake with laughter, and I open my eyes again to see his smile. “Warm, and sexy.” </p><p>“You really can’t resist me, even when you’re sick,” Steve teases. </p><p>“You’re right. I can’t. I would kiss you, but then I’d probably get you sick too.” Nothing like cheering yourself up only to deflate again immediately. </p><p>“Nope. I am one hundred percent immune to whatever you’ve got, as well as every other illness that can afflict a human being.”</p><p>I take my head off of him to give him an incredulous look. “No fair!”</p><p>“I spent twenty-five years with almost every health issue imaginable, so I wouldn’t be complaining if I were you. It’s another supersoldier thing. Now, I believe you were expressing your desire to kiss me, and I was implying that you could?”</p><p>“Riiiiight.” I sit up, and he loosens his grip enough that I can maneuver myself onto his lap. He tightens his hold on me again and presses his lips to mine, holding me there. </p><p>After a looooong moment, the kiss ends, and Steve touches the tip of his nose to mine. </p><p>“How are you holding up?” he checks. </p><p>“I could do this all day.” It’s weird to have a conversation when we’re nose-to-nose, but I love it. </p><p>“Okay. I just had to make sure you were still breathing alright. I wouldn’t want you to pass out from an overdose on kisses.”</p><p>That makes me laugh. “Now that I think about it,” I say, taking one hand off of him and fanning myself, “it is hard to breathe because it’s so hot in here.”</p><p>Steve immediately withdraws his arms from around me. “Sorry.”</p><p>“No, silly, I’m fine. Perfectly warm and toasty right now. I meant you. Taking my breath away.” And then I kiss him. Again. And again. And again. </p><p>---</p><p>“It’s been over an hour.” Steve sounds serious, but he can’t keep a straight face. “I need to go, honey.”</p><p>I sit up with perfect posture. “You know what, I think I’m cured.” I didn’t realize that I’d knocked him backwards into a reclining position against the arm of the couch until just now. I try to stand up, but his arms are still locked around my waist, and he immediately sees through my attempt to leave with him. He stands up and lets go, so I tumble to the floor.</p><p>“No, no, no, young lady,” he teases, helping me up and pushing me back down onto the couch. I raise an eyebrow skeptically at his choice of words. “You are going to stay on this couch until you feel better.” </p><p>“Okay, then I feel better.” I try to escape around him, but he’s determined. </p><p>“Megan Delaney Rogers, you stay right there,” he asserts firmly.</p><p>“Fine.” I scowl at him. “Do I at least get a plus one so I don’t get lonely? I need something to do.” He raises one eyebrow, and I grab his arms and pull him back down, where he lands on top of me. It’s a charged four seconds before I pull my legs in and he pushes himself up and off me, both of us laughing. I must’ve caught him off guard to beat him in a test of strength. That, or he really doesn’t want to leave me. </p><p>“You’re cute,” he says, cuddling me close to him and stroking my hair. He kisses my cheek, and I lean my head on his shoulder and fall asleep.</p><p>---</p><p>I wake up slowly, still feeling groggy and gross from sickness. Steve’s arms are still around me, warm and strong and secure. It makes me feel better, knowing that he didn’t leave.</p><p>I twist my head around to look at him, and he’s gazing right back at me. “Good morning, beautiful,” he says in a husky voice, his lips turning up into a smile. </p><p>I roll my eyes. I know I look like a mess. “Hi, handsome,” I reply, my voice scratchy from my sore throat. </p><p>“How do you feel?” he questions softly, scanning my face for signs of a problem. </p><p>“Eh. Better than yesterday, but still not back to normal yet.” I roll over as he lets go of me, but I miscalculate the distance and fall off the couch again. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Steve asks, trying to disguise his laughter as he peeks over the edge of the cushions. </p><p>“I’m great. Just extra sore now,” I answer into the carpet, giving him a thumbs up. I sit up stiffly and drag my body off the floor and back to the couch. “Okay, I was wrong. It feels worse today.” </p><p>“What do you need?” Steve whispers tenderly as I resume my position in front of him.</p><p>“A nap. A massage. Some tea. A bath. My puppy. Prayers that I won’t vomit.”</p><p>“Okay, I’m on it.” He sits up and looks into my pitiful face. “You go take your bath, and when you’re done, I’ll get your drink and give you all the cuddles and massages you want.”</p><p>---</p><p>I wrap myself in a towel and walk out of the bathroom into the bedroom, where I find a pair of comfy shorts in a drawer and one of Steve’s sweatshirts in the closet. I get dressed slowly and go back into the bathroom. It takes a few minutes longer than normal to brush my hair and my teeth since my entire body seems to be shutting down, but I manage.<br/>I meander back to the living room just as Steve walks in. “Your tea,” he says, handing it to me with a flourish. “How do you feel now?” </p><p>“Meh,” I answer, taking the drink from him and sipping it. “Thank you.” I flop onto the couch, and Steve sits down next to me, drawing me close to him again. Nova invites herself to settle practically on top of me. </p><p>“Did you steal my sweatshirt?” he asks jokingly. I make a very silly, guilty face, trying to look innocent. He just laughs. His hug almost immediately warms me up, and I curl up closer to him, trying not to react as my muscles scream out in pain. </p><p>“Thanks for taking care of me,” I squeak as I lift my mug with shaking hands. </p><p>“It’s what I do,” he replies, kissing my forehead. He must notice the tremors going through my limbs. “Oh no, you’re shaking. Get closer,” he commands, reaching for a blanket on the floor by the couch. I obediently scoot closer, and he wraps me in the blanket and his arms. </p><p>---</p><p>The rest of the day is rough. I end up throwing up just moments after waking up from my nap, and then I refuse to eat anything else for fear of losing it too. All I consume is water and tea. I can tell Steve is worried. </p><p>“I should call someone,” he finally says, stopping in the middle of massaging my back to get within my field of vision. “You’re a mess.” I try to shake my head, but he won’t have it. “Meg, you’re sick, cold, and sore. There’s got to be something else I can do for you.”</p><p>“Can you get Wanda to erase my memory of the stupid nightmares so I can sleep it off?” I moan.</p><p>“I know it’s the easy solution, but we can’t risk you losing any part of yourself,” he whispers, cradling me to his chest. “I’m sorry. I’ll ask Tony what to do. He’s always sleep-deprived, so he’ll know.”</p><p>I laugh, but it turns into a wheezing cough. I swallow a drink of water from my cup and close my eyes, leaning my head back. “Is it bad that I wanna sleep again?”</p><p>“No, Meg, you can go back to sleep. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” I say in a meek, hoarse whisper as he kisses my cheek and stands up from the carpet. I let my heavy eyes flutter closed, and then I’m half-asleep.</p>
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<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Worlds Collide, and Things Get Wack</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A couple days (and like six naps) later, I finally recover from the sudden bout of illness. “I’m back, losers,” I proclaim triumphantly as I saunter back into the tower like nothing happened. </p><p>“Finally,” Tony says dramatically. “We’ve been getting these obnoxious phone calls for days.”</p><p>“From who?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows. </p><p>“An office. Some girl named Andrea. Wants to set up an interview or something,” he answers offhandedly, taking a bite of the potato chip in his hand. My eyes widen in recognition. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. “I dunno, ask Charlie. She started picking ‘em up.”</p><p>Charlie walks in just then. “Oh, thank goodness you’re not dead!” she exclaims, hugging me tightly. “Now what do you want?”</p><p>“Why does Andrea want to interview me?”</p><p>“Oh! She wants to run a wedding special about you too. Ya know, big celebrity wedding of the year and all that jazz.”</p><p>Steve and I share an astonished glance. “My ex-coworker wants to interview us?” I can’t wrap my mind around it, so I defer to my husband. “What do you think?”</p><p>Steve shrugs. “Call her back!”</p><p>---</p><p>A week later, we stroll into the busy magazine headquarters and look around for someone who seems to be looking for us. A few of them recognize me and wave before quickly returning to their work. </p><p>“Andrea will want to see you in her office,” a young man offers helpfully as he walks past with a towering stack of fabrics in his arms. “I’ll show you the way.”</p><p>“Thanks--” I get another glimpse of his face. “Oh, hey, Ricky.” </p><p>“Hi, Meg,” he says with a grin. “How’re things?”</p><p>“Life’s good, my dude,” I answer, squeezing Steve’s hand.</p><p>“I can see that,” he jokes. He turns around and walks backwards, taking one hand out from underneath the pile of fabric to shake Steve’s hand. “Hi, I’m Ricky. Meg and I used to work together.”</p><p>“I’m Steve,” he answers, flashing a smile.</p><p>“I can tell you guys are clearly a good pair.” We smile at each other, as if on cue. “You know Andrea’s going to try to get you to come back, right, Meg? She took over Rob’s position, and she's going to butter you up to re-enter the business, even though we all know what you’re up to these days.” Ricky winks and turns back around. “Here we are.” He steps through the open door without knocking. “Hey Andrea, I got those fabric samples you wanted, and I brought your guests.”</p><p>“Just put them in the box, Ricky,” the woman says from behind a ginormous printout of a spread, pointing one long nail at a cardboard box on her office floor. </p><p>“Us?” I joke, peeking into the room. Andrea slaps the spread down instantly and stares wide-eyed at me.</p><p>“Meg!” she squeals, jumping out of her desk chair and rushing over to hug me. “Girl, it’s been too long,” she says, stepping back and sizing me up. “Look at you! New hair, new hubby, new superhero persona…” She clicks her tongue. “Where to start? Hi, I’m Andrea,” she blurts, shaking Steve’s hand. </p><p>“I’m Steve,” he says, trying to hide the fact that he is overwhelmed by Andrea. She has that effect on people sometimes. </p><p>“Meg’s husband,” she says in a sing-song voice, giving me a mischievous look. “I’m sooo excited to interview you about your lives! The world wants to know all the juicy details about Captain America and American Dream, so I must deliver!”</p><p>“When did you get promoted?” I ask, knowing it’ll be too late once Andrea starts prying gossip from us. </p><p>“A couple months after you left. Oh, Meg, please come back! I need somebody to help me out.”</p><p>“Uh, hello? I’m here,” Ricky scowls, waving sarcastically at Andrea from the doorway. </p><p>“...right.”</p><p>“I can’t, Andrea. I’ve got another job. I’m sorry.”</p><p>She pouts for a second. “Fine. For now.” She moves back to her desk and shuffles some papers. “Shall we get started?”</p><p>We sit down in two chairs beside each other as she leaves her desk and sits lightly in a third. “First of all, your wedding looked more beautiful than a royal one. How did you manage to put it together between all your superhero shenanigans?”</p><p>“We had some help,” I say modestly. That’s a huge understatement.</p><p>“The Wakandan royal family and our friends were very supportive, plus Meg and I were both just determined to make it perfect,” Steve elaborates. He beams at me, and I smile back shyly. It feels so weird, turning all shy just because my ex-coworker is here. </p><p>“When you’re so in love, you feel like there’s no obstacle that can keep you from displaying it perfectly to the world.”</p><p>Andrea continues to prod us with questions about the wedding and the cancelled honeymoon and the new apartment. Then she throws us a curveball. “Should the world be expecting a baby Rogers soon?”</p><p>I freeze, entirely flustered. “As far as we know, not at the moment.” I laugh awkwardly at myself. “It hasn’t been that long, Andrea.”</p><p>She shrugs. “You never know.” She glances down at her notepad, double-checking her questions. “Okay, that’s all I have for you, so let’s go get you ready for the shoot!”</p><p>---</p><p>“Welcome back, fellow celebrities,” Tony says as soon as we open the door to the tower. “Hurry, Fury just called an emergency meeting.”</p><p>We drop our stuff and follow Tony to the meeting room, not even bothering to sit down. The three of us stand against the back wall, arms crossed, and devote our attention to Fury, Coulson, and Hill. </p><p>“We know Emily’s next move,” Coulson says. </p><p>“Okay, Phil, get a move on and tell us,” Natasha complains impatiently. </p><p>“She’s planning a strike on New York in ten days,” Fury takes over. “Our satellites picked her up a few hours west of here, and we were able to glean the basics of her plans from security footage around her hotel.”</p><p>“Great, let’s go,” Charlie says, halfway out of her seat. </p><p>“No. We get her to bring the fight to us.”</p>
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<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Suffering Can Be Solved With Songs and Sweets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eight days to go until Emily’s alleged attack on New York. Eight days to prepare myself so I don’t lose everything, but I can’t even sleep.</p><p>“Meg?” Steve’s voice comes from down the hallway. I freeze, but the ballet music still plays softly on, a dead giveaway. He appears in the doorway, a look of confusion on his face. “Meg, what are you doing?” </p><p>I sigh heavily. “Painting stopped chasing the nightmares away. I had to do something different, to move.”</p><p>“Are you okay?” he asks me, advancing into the room. </p><p>“No.” I shake my head. “Does it ever get better?” I whisper pathetically, moving toward him, where he wraps me in a gentle hug. </p><p>“Over time,” Steve assures me. “It was a long time for me too. I still get them, you know.” He takes one hand off my back and reaches for my phone, switching the music to another slow, wordless song. “Can I dance with you?”</p><p>I nod, crying silently, and lean my head against his shoulder as he draws me into his embrace. We sway and spin without a sound to the music for a few moments, both physically relaxing in the peace. </p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me they were still this bad?” Steve finally whispers in my ear, taking one hand off my waist to lift my chin. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”</p><p>I sniffle. “Yeah, I just didn’t want to be a burden. You have your own problems to deal with.” </p><p>“For better or worse, remember?” he asks, twining his fingers through mine. “I’m in this with you for life. We’re a team, Meg. I’ll always be here for you.”</p><p>Another tear slips down my cheek, and I tighten my arm around him, pulling us back into a closer embrace. “Always and forever.”</p><p>He brushes my hair aside. “I love you.”</p><p>“And I love you.” I tilt my face up and kiss him softly. “Can we make some cookies?” I ask a moment later. </p><p>“Will that make you feel better?” he laughs. </p><p>“Maybe.’’ I take his hand and drag him into the kitchen, throwing chocolate chips out of the fridge and pulling jars out of cabinets. The kitchen soon fills with a tangible cloud of flour from our mess, and we leave the dishes in the sink until we’re finished. The cookies come out of the oven at exactly two o’clock, and Steve and I eat half of them while they’re still hot. </p><p>Steve turns me toward him, holding me close, and kisses me with chocolate-dotted lips. I laugh and hug him tighter, and he lays his head on top of mine contentedly. </p><p>“We should probably do the dishes,” I yawn. We fill the sink with soapy water, and I can’t resist the urge to splash him with a huge handful of bubbles. He instantly retaliates, soaking my shirt through, and thus a bubble war ensues. </p><p>We jump and spin around each other, trying to get closer to the sink to monopolize the bubbles. I run a soapy hand through Steve’s perfect golden hair with a loud, maniacal laugh, but then he pins me to the counter with his body, kissing me and drizzling soapy water from his hands down the sides of my face.</p><p>“If you ever have more nightmares and need to get out and do something, there’s a dance studio in the tower. Tony had it added for Nat,” Steve says when he steps back. Oh yeah, that was a thing an hour ago. “I just don’t want you to be alone. You know I’ll always be here for you, but my dancing skills are rather limited.”</p><p>“Thanks.” I kiss his cheek, swiping one more handful of bubbles at him, and take a step back, yawning. “I think I could actually sleep now.”</p>
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<a name="section0028"><h2>28. The Calm Before the Storm is Actually Traumatized Anxiety</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Four nights later, another nightmare haunts my sleep. I consider waking Steve, but he looks so peaceful sleeping, and I recall what he said about the ballet studio. I change clothes, grab the car keys, and creep out of the apartment. </p><p>There’s music coming from the training room as I walk in. I spot a door hidden in the wall’s panels and press my palm against it. The door opens into a decent-sized dance studio with a gleaming wooden floor and a long mirror, which Natasha stands facing, one of her black slipper-clad feet stretched toward the ceiling. </p><p>“Hey Nat,” I say, trying not to freak her out. </p><p>“Oh, hi,” she replies. She seems to register my demeanor, and her mood warms. “Hey, is everything okay?”</p><p>“Nightmares,” I answer simply, slipping my feet into the turquoise pointe shoes I bought before going to college. “A few nights ago, Steve found me dancing in the living room since I couldn’t sleep, and he told me I might be able to find some solace in here. I hope you don’t mind.”</p><p>“Not at all.” She offers me a hand and pulls me to my feet. Her face breaks into a devilish grin. “Let’s see who can do more pirouettes.”</p><p>“I know it’s gonna be you,” I grumble, rolling my eyes as I stand up on my toes.</p>
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<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Now to Fight Some Bad Guys</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I apologize for the kinda sudden time skip between the last chapter and this one lol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Okay team, you know what to do,” Tony says into the comm. He and the other flying heroes blast off to bombard Emily and her closest assault team with an air strike while the rest of us pick off the other guards to weaken her morale. </p><p>I stand in the precise center (for the dramatic effect) of a squat stone bridge, watching as a wave of dark-suited soldiers march my direction. Pietro zooms past, nothing more than a silver blur, and the distant forms of my other teammates look like little more than tiny action figures animated to life.</p><p>One henchman breaks away from the group as the others continue on, and the sounds of battle rise in the air. The man grins sinisterly at me: a classic underestimate of my skills. <br/>I stand my ground as he approaches, staying decidedly still until he breaks into a run. Then I spin, kicking his knees out and sending him tumbling to the ground. He coughs and rolls back to his feet. I barely catch any sign that he’s in pain.</p><p>He grabs onto my shoulders, digging his thumbs into my collarbone, and I yelp in pain. That earns me another evil smirk. I bring my knee up to his groin, and it connects forcefully enough to elicit a grunt of pain. He decides he’s had enough of me.</p><p>That didn’t take long.</p><p>The man flings me aside, and I sail helplessly through the air and over the edge of the bridge into the river. The water is cold, and the current is strong. I try to swim to the edge, but the progress is slow and exhausting. Even when I pull my shield from my back and toss it to the bank, I’m overwhelmed by the waves.</p><p>Just when I start to believe that all hope is lost, a metal arm flashes down from the low bridge. I reach for Bucky’s hand and grab it, and he hoists me back onto the battleground. </p><p>“Nobody dies today,” he says seriously to me. I lie limply on the ground and shut my eyes with a weak nod. </p><p>“Thank you,” I whisper, pushing myself off the stone bridge to my feet. I stand with my back to his, facing the oncoming horde of enemies, raising my fists and simultaneously missing my shield. Good thing I still have shock-y gloves. “I got your back, Bucky.”</p><p>The enemies rush at us from all sides. I shift through different forms and knock down waves of far-off opponents. When I return to myself, I punch evil dude after evil dude in the face, landing hits on their jaws, noses, and cheekbones. Several fall quickly, but one stubborn (or lucky, or maybe slightly less stupid) one remains in front of me. He punches me hard in the gut, knocking the wind out of me, but I’m stronger than that. I won’t fall after one hit. </p><p>I swing for the guy’s face, but he dodges and sweeps my legs out from under me. My head cracks against the pavement, making me dizzy. Bucky turns around and starts going at it with the minion, but two more show up behind him. With his attention split between the three of them, neither of us is safe. </p><p>I test all of my limbs. Once I determine that they’re all working and lifting my head doesn’t kill me, the fun begins. I jump up from the ground and kick the man in an area he’d rather not be kicked (not that I asked). He stumbles to the side, hunched over and howling in pain, and I dig my electrified knuckles into his shoulders. His eyes roll back into his head, his muscles go limp, and I let go, dropping his body to the ground. </p><p>“Got any more, Bucky?” I call, turning my head to check on him.</p><p>“No, we’re clear,” he answers. Pietro’s voice crackles through our comms, and Bucky and I lock eyes. With a nod, he starts running. </p><p>Before I can take off after Bucky, a pair of thick arms pins mine to my back as the heavy body kicks me to the ground and lands on me. I grit my teeth at the throbbing pains in my back and vaguely note the sounds of scuffling in the background. </p><p>“Got ‘im!” a man’s gruff voice calls. The henchman holding me down pulls me roughly off the ground with one hand at the collar of my jacket, forcing me to my knees and rotating my body so I stare across the bridge at my husband. There are three men holding him. I know it’s silly and stupid, but I suddenly feel weak for being detained by only one. </p><p>Emily strolls easily over to the loose knot of people around Steve as one finishes tying his hands behind his back. She waves them away, and one scurries across the bridge to bind me as well, freeing the other man to pull out a gun I didn’t know he had.</p><p>Emily cups Steve’s chin with one manicured hand, and a defensive growl rises in the back of my throat. I know she’s not really flirting, but her games have gotten to my head, and the instinct to fight for him kicks in.</p><p>The henchman jams his gun against my skull, a common target that Emily also aims for from across the bridge as she finishes circling her prey. </p><p>“How does it feel, Captain, to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” she sneers at him, shifting the gun toward the center of my face.</p><p>Steve breathes heavily, and his face hardens into a determined mask. “Don’t kill her. Just take me.”</p><p>Emily cackles shrilly. “You think I came here to bargain? You’ll die anyway; I just wanted to make it more dramatic.” She moves to his side and presses the gun to his head. “But alright. I’m not picky; I’ll bite. I’ll just kill the pretty little thing later. That way she suffers, and I still get what I want. I did find her rather annoying, anyway.”</p><p>“No!” I scream, fighting my captor, wanting nothing more than to run to Steve and shield him from her.</p><p>He calmly looks away from me and up at Emily. “I can see how much pain you’re in, and I understand. Just please give me one last moment with her. You can make things different.”</p><p>“I don’t believe you’re really in a position to make requests on my terms, darling. Do you think I got to choose my last words to my parents, or that I’m stupid enough to fall for your wordplay and join your alliance?” He continues to give her a pleading look, and she rolls her eyes. No one can resist his puppy dog eyes. “Fine.” </p><p>She quickly unties him and gestures for the guard to do the same to me, and the two of them force us to the center of the bridge, guns still pointed at both of our heads. <br/>“Honey, I’m sorry,” Steve whispers as he cups my face in his hands and kisses me gently. “But there’s no other way.” I force back my tears as he closes his eyes and presses his forehead against mine one last time.</p><p>Still close to me, Steve instantly whips around and kicks Emily over, not breaking eye contact with me until the last possible second. I elbow the thug hovering too close behind me and pivot, landing a hard punch on his mouth. It begins to spurt blood, and he staggers away from me in pain. </p><p>Two more guys are approaching from the bridge’s end, and I’m still unarmed. “Meg, catch!” Steve shouts, flinging his shield through the air at me. I jump and catch it, fluidly twirling in midair and launching it toward my enemies. It’s almost graceful in its destruction. </p><p>“Whoa, that was awesome! The big one is even cooler!”</p><p>Steve laughs. “Meg, you’re such a nerd,” he calls across the bridge. “I love it.” </p><p>“I know,” I whisper to myself. I bat away another attacker as I smile at him. “I love you too!” I shout as he bashes one guy’s helmet. </p><p>“Looking for this?” someone calls smoothly from above just as I change forms. I glance up from the unconscious body at my feet, and Rhodey drops my shield from the sky. I catch it and salute him with a smug little smirk.</p><p>Steve and I continue battling Emily’s band of thugs, knocking them down until bodies begin to form piles in the street. At one point, Steve ends up with Stormbreaker, which allows him to electrocute several fiends at once. As much as he’d love to keep summoning lightning, and I’d love to keep watching him do it, though, Thor cries out in need for his axe, and Steve reluctantly throws it back. </p><p>I leap and kick at the last standing henchman, but my efforts seem futile. He forcefully backhands my face, and I crumple to the pavement with a small scream of pain. The man looms ominously over me, but I don’t see any weapons (yet). My brain frantically scrambles for a plan, but I’m not hopeful. My eyes fearfully dart to Steve, who looks back at me longingly. I can tell that he wants nothing more than to come save me and reassure me that everything’s okay, but then Emily pulls out a knife and cuts a shallow gash across his cheek in a sloppy attempt to cut him elsewhere, reminding him of the prominent danger. </p><p>“Your emotions get in your way, Captain,” Emily sneers, skirting just out of my husband’s reach. “Love is your Achilles heel. It is your weakness,” she spits. “You stop caring about people, you become invincible.” </p><p>“I’m not concerned with being invincible,” he counters coolly, throwing his shield and knocking her down. “I know I’m not perfect, but I have people who care about me that I can depend on to cover me where I’m weak. And that’s why you’re going to lose.”</p><p>He stands over her, and I divert my eyes from my opponent just long enough to watch them. Emily’s quaking in terror, her body convulsing with minute tremors on the stone bridge. I almost feel bad for her. </p><p>Then she kicks my husband’s legs out from under him, flipping his shield off the ground and crawling away. Adrenaline kicks in, and I bash her henchman’s head with the center of my shield, streaking the purple star with sprinkles of blood. Once Steve falls, I sprint across the bridge to his side.</p><p>“Steve?” I squeak. He lies on the concrete without moving. I scramble over to him and check for a pulse. I can still hear it, but I don’t think he’s breathing. After several minutes of frantic CPR, he still hasn’t woken. “Nonononononononono,” I moan. “Steven Rogers, you better not die on me now!”</p><p>He slowly opens one eye and peers up at me. “I’m okay, Meg. Really, I’m fine.” He pushes himself off the ground, and I offer him my hand to pull him up. “I’m not planning to leave you any time soon.”</p><p>An explosive sound rattles the ground, sending bits and pieces of building facades tumbling to the ground. We search the horizon for the source of the commotion, finding the Hulk launching Hydra henchmen through the first floor windows of several towers. </p><p>Steve and I race down the bridge and join in the fight. Our shields fly every which way, zinging across the battlefield like boomerangs and cutting down countless Hydra agents. <br/>I chase two rogue agents as they try to escape. I throw my shield at one of them, knocking her down, where she lies motionless. As this realization registers in my mind, I notice that the other has escaped my field of vision. I sprint along the street, peering into alleys and through open windows in search of him, but I have no luck. </p><p>As I turn around to get back to the others, I hear the sound of the gun firing one, two, three, four times. By then, it’s too late to dodge. I feel a searing pain in my side as the bullets cut through my skin, and the sensation quickly overtakes me. Blood begins to spread across my shirt. I try to press on the wounds, but the pain becomes too much, and I take my hand away again. The agent scurries out of a hole to my right, but I can’t muster the strength to lift my shield or do anything else to stop him.</p><p>“Help,” I cry in a hoarse, raspy voice. There’s no way they can hear me. I’m doomed.</p><p>I fall limply to the ground, the sounds of the raging battle muted in my ears. Everything seems to move in slow motion. I’m so dizzy. Someone--Carol, maybe--is close enough to notice that I’m falling and manages to catch me before I hit my head on the pavement. I hear muffled cries of terror and anguish as everything fades to black.</p>
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<a name="section0030"><h2>30. You Messed With the Wrong Girl, so You Get What You Deserve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It only takes a few seconds after my consciousness returns for me to remember what’s going on. Emily, the battle we’re in the midst of, my friends--</p><p>“You never loved him. It was all an act,” Emily taunts from above me. </p><p>My head whips up, and I glare fiercely at her. I don’t hesitate to push myself off the ground and to my feet, despite the aches of several bruises all over my body. “You wanna say that again?” I growl, stalking closer. </p><p>She spits out a mouthful of blood seeping from a cut on her lip. “You don’t truly love Captain Rogers. What your motive is, I don’t know, but it’s all a lie. A well-acted one, but a lie nonetheless.”</p><p>I silence her with a hard punch to the face. She falls to the ground, lifeless, and I drag her over next to her unconscious crony. I wonder who knocked him out while I was...also knocked out. Whoever it was doesn’t really matter, though; we’ll interrogate the two of them when they wake up. “That’s for ruining my wedding,” I growl at her limp form on the stone.</p><p>I brush my palms together and high five Steve. “Nice punch,” he compliments. </p><p>“That wasn’t a punch. That was just all the love I clearly don’t feel for you coming out of my fist,” I jest as I roll my eyes. “I can’t believe she tried that.”</p><p>He laughs. “It’s a classic trick. She thought it would rattle me and turn us against each other. That’s what villains do.” He rolls his eyes, crosses them, and smiles at me. “Good thing I’ve got you watching my back.”</p><p>I pause, hands on my hips, to take a deep breath. “Now what? Do we just wait for them to wake up and fight off the baddies who might try to steal their commander’s body?”</p><p>“I guess so. Be on guard.”</p><p>As it turns out, Emily’s army has significantly dwindled at our hands, and the rest of her dumb employees are off engaged in combat with my friends, which makes our job pretty uneventful. </p><p>When we catch the first sounds of stirring, Steve pulls two pairs of handcuffs out of his belt and swiftly locks the two criminals in them. “Capt’n ‘Merica,” Emily mumbles in her unconscious state. </p><p>“Aw, wow, she said your name,” I tease Steve, punching him in the arm. </p><p>I must’ve hit a bruise; he rubs the spot gingerly through his sleeve. “It’s much cuter when you do it,” he counters. </p><p>I kiss his cheek and put a finger to my ear, activating the comm line. “Our perps are starting to wake up, if you wanna see the scene that’s about to go down,” I say. They’ll know it’s a subtle call for backup just in case. </p><p>Carol and Wanda land side by side on the stony path, followed by Peter flipping in off the tail momentum of a swing. Pietro and Charlie run towards us, and soon the entire team is clustered around the pair of criminals.</p><p>Bob stirs too, and then Thor grabs both of them by the necks of their shirts and lifts them off the ground.</p><p>Now Emily and her second-in-command kneel on the ground in the center of our circle, hands cuffed behind their backs. Thor moves to stand in front of them, crossing his muscled arms to maximize his menacing factor. “You have one chance. Tell us everything and surrender.”</p><p>“Or?” Emily challenges. No one answers her. “That’s what I thought. Bob, don’t tell them anything. They won’t hurt us.”</p><p>“I can call the ants,” Scott points out.</p><p>“And...I’ll summon the spiders,” Peter threatens. Hopefully our villains didn’t notice the waver in his voice at the beginning of his blatant lie.</p><p>It would seem they didn’t. The dude, Bob, cringes away from Peter, who has gotten all up in his face. “Okay, that’s it! I’m Bob Dobalina, I worked for Hydra, and I need this job because my wife will judge me for coming home without one! I used to work in military technology research and development before the SHIELD shutdown, which is how all these dudes have those epic space hoverboards! Emily’s mom was my mentor in that department, which is how she found me, and she was desperate, so she chose me to carry out her evil plans! I was also desperate, so I said yes because she offered me dental insurance!”</p><p>Emily rolls her eyes and glares at him. “Excellent. Anything else you’d like to give away, Robert? What about your birth date, your credit cards, your Social Security number, and all your passwords?”</p><p>“Can it, losers,” Tony complains. “You’re both going to prison for a very long time. So since we’re stuck with you for about twenty more minutes, now would be an opportune time to shut up.”</p><p>---</p><p>With the SHIELD armored truck carting Emily and Bob off to a prison far, far away, we all let out one collective breath. “Crisis averted,” Tony proclaims. </p><p>“And the Avengers are still here through it,” Steve adds.</p><p>Charlie gazes after the truck as it fades into the distance. “Note to self: never mess with a psychotic British bi--” </p><p>I elbow her ribs sharply. “Business as usual,” I say with a shrug. </p><p>“I guess that is what they pay us for,” Clint mutters. “But now I seriously need a beer. That girl was wacked out.”</p><p>“I second that,” Natasha says. “Let’s go celebrate our victory.”</p>
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<a name="section0031"><h2>31. If Your Original Vacation Gets Canceled, Tony Can Always Send You to Space....</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next few weeks are unbelievably calm, marked by nothing more exciting than Wanda coming home from the grocery store with no less than twelve copies of my and Steve’s magazine. Everyone collectively agrees that the publication is terrible, yet I still find copies of the issue hidden in the building on occasion. </p><p>I sit on the couch reading one now while I wait for my toenails to dry. Shockingly, the other content in there is worse. I’m laughably ashamed to have ever been associated with it. Was it always this bad? </p><p>I throw the magazine aside and pick up my book off the top of a stack. Steve peers at me over his own, and there’s a smile in his eyes. I see Bucky and Peter in my periphery, both doing their own things in silence. A pocket of blissful peace.</p><p>Then Tony enters and clears his throat. “Okay, so your lives have been absolutely insane since the wedding, and you didn’t get a real honeymoon--”</p><p>“That depends on your definition,” Bucky interrupts tonelessly from across the room. He smirks devilishly at the two of us from behind Tony, the unspoken implication hanging in the air. </p><p>Tony clears his throat again, avoiding looking either of us in the eye for a moment. Peter, earbuds in, jams on obliviously as he fills out his math homework. “Anyway, I thought you might still want a romantic trip, so I’ve been doing some searching, and I think I’ve got a winner. Strange can make you a portal--”</p><p>“Portal?” Steve asks. </p><p>“Would you let me finish?” Tony huffs. “Yes. We found a very nice planet in another universe, it’s very tropical and beautiful, small and sparsely inhabited, so if you want, I can head back over again and get things settled for you to go--”</p><p>“Whoa,” I whisper, my eyes widening. I look hopefully at Steve, whose mouth hangs open in shock.</p><p>Strange emerges from a portal in midair. “So they’re happy to have you, but they prefer that guests arrive by ship and not out of nowhere. They seemed a tad irritated with me. If you want to go, we can talk to the space man about borrowing his ship.”</p><p>“Don’t try to be selfless and say that you’ll be needed here to fight crime. Please, for once in your lives, I am begging the two of you to be selfish. Take the vacation and go enjoy yourselves so you don’t fall apart under the constant stress that is avenging.”</p><p>Steve and I make eye contact, and it’s as if we can communicate telepathically. “We’re gonna need a spaceship,” I finally say to Tony and Strange. </p><p>---</p><p>It’s been four hours since the spaceship launched from the bay, and Tony promised us that we could make the journey in seven with Quill’s on-board space tech. “Not a bad drive,” I joked when he told us that before we got on. </p><p>I glance over at Steve, probably the world’s most focused pilot. The reflection of purple and blue nebulas in his eyes makes them all the more mesmerizing to look at. He catches me looking at him, flicks on the autopilot for a second, and turns to smile at me.</p><p>“What are you thinking?”</p><p>“That you’re the most incredible human being I’ve ever met,” I gush. “Well, and that I never really thought I’d be wearing my suit on the way to my honeymoon.”</p><p>“Just a space precaution,” he says, leaning across the space between us to meet me for a kiss. “Once we get there, it’ll be you, me, and the beach.”</p><p>“I bet there are some pretty amazing sunsets there,” I muse, gazing at the stars again. </p><p>“We should be there in time to see.”</p><p>---</p><p>I lie next to Steve, studying his face in the sunlight splashing through the glass doors on the right side of the bedroom. He looks so peaceful and carefree when he sleeps. I hope he also feels that way. </p><p>His eyes open slowly, his face lifting into a grin when he sees mine so close to his. “Hi, honey,” he says, scooting closer to kiss me. His eyes shift to the brilliant white sands just beyond the door, and he suddenly looks very confused. “Meg, when did we get to a beach?”</p><p>“You don’t remember?” I say. “This is our late honeymoon, Steve. We landed last night. Are you alright?”</p><p>He laughs. “Right. I must just be confused and exhausted, not to mention intoxicated by your presence.” His forehead presses against mine, and the tips of our noses touch. </p><p>“I think that goes both ways,” I reply. “Do you wanna eat some breakfast and head to the beach?”</p><p>“Maybe not just yet…” he answers. </p><p>I smirk, snuggling against his chest. “That sounds good to me.”</p>
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<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Not to Spoil What Happens in Paris...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>another funky "post-credits scene" with a little more of a cliffhanger for ya</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Paris? But you just go back from space!” Charlie whines. </p><p>“It’s six months, guys. We wanna take a little bit more time for us.” Steve looks around the circle, searching each face for the emotion it reflects. </p><p>“We’ll be back before you know it,” I add. “And by the way, we’ve been back from space for two months already.”</p><p>“Idiotic bananas,” Charlie mutters under her breath. “But I’m just gonna miss you so much,” she adds with a sniffle. </p><p>“You will be fine without me for six months. I’ll still text you obnoxiously like I do or FaceTime you when I get the chance. It’s not like a dark force is about to yeet me off to another dimension for several years with no means of communication or anything.”</p><p>“Or cryogenic freezing and evil science experiments are keeping you two apart for seven decades,” Steve adds. </p><p>Charlie sticks out her tongue defiantly. “Have fun telling the others. I’m not helping you with that part.”</p><p>---</p><p>I peek around the corner into the living room, where Steve’s lying on the couch, reading a book. I take one shaky deep breath to calm myself before walking in. </p><p>“Steve? Babe?” I squeak, speaking in English for the first time in almost four months. “Can I talk to you?” </p><p>He looks up from his book in confusion. “Hey, Meg, what’s up?”</p><p>I step into the room and cross the floor quickly, taking a seat beside him as he sits up. “I have to tell you something, but I don’t really know how to-- how to say it.” I pause to collect my thoughts, tousling my now-teal hair as I think. “You remember what we talked about the other day when we went to the Pont des Arts to lock away our wish?”</p><p>“You mean me joking about us never getting to retire from the business of saving the world?”</p><p>“That, yeah, but the rest of the surrounding conversation.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah. We were talking about where we’d move if we ever did get the chance. You wanted to move here or to a big farmhouse in the country, which are two very opposite views of life living within your one mind.”</p><p>“And you said--” My sentence is interrupted by Nova leaping onto my lap in a desperate grab for attention. I stroke her head, and she sits her wagging butt down beside my feet. “The point is, we were imagining our ideal future and what that included. Well, I-- I’m-- We’re-- We’re having-- I--” Frustrated, my hand subconsciously drifts to my stomach as I stare off into space in the direction of the Christmas tree and try to think of how to phrase the news. I should’ve thought through this more before I came in. </p><p>The motion seems to clue my husband in where my stuttering fails. “Sunflower,” Steve says gently, “are you trying to tell me we’re going to have a baby?”</p><p>“I-- Yes,” I say feebly.</p><p>His eyes widen in shock. “For-- For real?” he stutters. “You’re pregnant?”</p><p>“Yeah,” I answer, more excited this time. </p><p>“I’m gonna be a dad,” he mumbles under his breath in disbelief. He looks at me in wonder. “I’m gonna be a dad.” I lean contentedly against his shoulder, and he smiles at me for a fraction of a second before his face falls again. “I have no idea what to do.”</p><p>“It’s gonna be okay,” I say. “Trust me, I don’t know what to do either. We’ll figure this out together.”</p><p>“I’m not sure I’m cut out for this,” he mutters, putting his head in his hands.</p><p>“What do you mean?” </p><p>“I’m such a-- a mess. I-- I’ve killed people! Not to mention I hardly even knew my father, so I have no leads to go on.”</p><p>“Steve, I know that, but do you know what I see when I look at you? A man that any child would be lucky and proud to have as a dad. I see the most caring, selfless, loving, resourceful guy I’ve ever known. I see someone who will put his full effort into keeping his family safe and making them happy because that is who you are.” I drag myself closer and throw my arms around him. “It’ll be an interesting learning experience for both of us, but you’ll get the hang of it and do amazing. Besides, we aren’t alone. We have friends and family who can give us advice so it’s not so overwhelming.”</p><p>He takes a deep breath and lifts his eyes to look at me. “Maybe you’re right.” He grins and hugs me, kissing me sneakily. “It’s just so hard to believe…. I’ve wanted this--a family, a stable life, the essence of the American dream--for over eighty years, but I never thought I’d actually get it...until you came along. That’s when everything changed.” He wipes a singular tear from his cheek and smiles at me. “I can’t believe it. We have a baby on the way….”</p><p>I close my eyes and lean my forehead against his. “See? Everything’s working out.”</p><p>“You knew it would, since you seem to follow the sunshine,” he laughs. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“I feel fine,” I say, still holding him close to me. “The real question is, how long do you think we should wait to tell the others? The team, of course, and my parents will want to know….”</p><p>He considers this. “Let’s surprise them. What’s stopping us from going home on the next flight?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading; I hope you enjoyed the second installment in this series! Be on the lookout for part 3 coming soon, as well as (most likely) a separate works of bonus scenes that didn't fit within my storyline!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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